Putting Flesh to the Bones
by JessicaJ
Summary: Cloud tells her to stop chasing skeletons. Rich. But she find the pull of curiosity irresistible- What is really there, in the ShinRa mansion? She plans to find out, alone. [PLAN on doing something with this soon, 24/04/2013]
1. Chasing Skeletons

What if Cloud hadn't wanted to waste time looking, chasing skeletons of the past, having enough to deal with his own? What if Tifa had been the one to find him, to give him a life back he didn't really know if he wanted anymore?

This has been revised due to some errors.

1. Skeletons

They'd found Nibelheim. In place of the charred ruins from her memories, or even perhaps a new settlement in her imagination, Tifa found no change from the town she remembered- it was as though it had never burned down at all. There were the tall, whitewashed buildings with slate tiled rooves. There was the well, the town's old truck that had been rusty all of her childhood. But she'd been there; felt the searing heat of the flames on her skin, evaporating the sweat pouring from her body, as she helped to find survivors. She'd inhaled the heady scent of smoke, felt the dry heat singe her airways, choke her. And she'd watched the houses buckle, collapse into clouds of noxious dust and debris. She'd watched the fires burn until the rain poured down, a little too late, dousing the remnants of the fire, washing away her childhood, her memories, her friends. Her home.

The only thing left was the mansion; she knew it had survived the fire, being out of the way of the houses of the main square. Its brickwork appeared more weathered, its roof more dilapidated, and almost no glass remained in the window panes. The garden was so overgrown, she could barely make it out from the street. Tifa had insisted on going inside, just for nostalgic reasons; despite its dangers, as a child she had explored it well. Perhaps it was the only thing of Nibel that remained that wasn't a fake, orchestrated by ShinRa. In their last journey through here, she had been too grief-stricken to even consider venturing within the shadows and cobwebs that lingered there.

This time, though, she felt braver.

It was darker than she remembered; ivy had grown in from outside, through the cracks in the glass windows, and had spread over the once beautiful wood panelling of the walls, and even the ceiling. Some tendrils had snaked around the magnificent crystal chandelier, and were dangling from it. The carpets had pretty much disintegrated, and the doors barely opened, for the rust at the hinges.

"C'mon, Tif, I don't like it." Cloud scratched the back of his head, looking around uneasily. "We should rest up, we're heading into the mountains tomorrow."

"Look!" She exclaimed, ignoring him. In her hands she held a note. The paper was yellowing, though it didn't seem to be _that_ old.

"What is it?" His interest seemed piqued.

"It's a… there's a man trapped in the basement!- and its signed by Hojo." _If you're interested, I've trapped the interfering Turk in the basement. A little game, if you'll amuse yourself for an hour or so._

"Tifa, Hojo hasn't worked here since before we were born. I doubt that, if there were anyone trapped here, they'd still be alive."

"You can't know that for sure!" She huffed, carefully reading through the note again. _If you enjoy a little music..._

"Tifa, we need to find out what's going on in Nibel. What with all these strange men shuffling around. It's a little more important than chasing skeletons."

"I guess so." She followed him back outside, squinting in the sunlight, though the shadow of doubt still plagued her for the rest of the afternoon. They were to stay in the replica of her old family home; unlike the other houses, it was not inhabited by actors, who denied that there had ever been a fire.

She lay on her bed, (but it wasn't _really_ hers), staring at her ceiling. Well, not _really_ her ceiling; ShinRa's ceiling, ShinRa's lie. Why would they do this? What good would recreating the bedroom of a sixteen year old girl do? Hm. She couldn't even begin to understand the evil that ShinRa condoned, carried out every day.

Chasing skeletons, Cloud had called it: Indeed. But if there were a skeleton, it would have once had flesh, and skin, and a beating heart; And a name. Perhaps he was married, or had been. Perhaps he still had living children, who lived in grief, never knowing what had happened to the father; Or maybe he _was_ alive…

She sat up, turning her mind away from sleep for good. The moon was high, and her shadow was long as she crossed the deserted village square. She was wearing a white nightdress that reached her knees, and clung to her skin comfortably, found in one of the dressers in her house, alone on a silk hanger; Very much in the style of her mother's- But it wasn't her mother's. It was a fake; It was all fake. She had slipped her feet into her boots.

No-one else needed to know she was gone. She wouldn't take long…

The heavy door creaked loudly, opening just wide enough for her to slip through. When they had gone inside earlier that day, Cloud had caught his shoulder on a sharp protruding bit of metal. The hall was ethereal, beautifully frightening in the silver moonlight. A gentle breeze rustled through the ivy.

She unfolded the note in her hand, scanning the untidy scrawl in search of the first clue.

_You will find the first clue where it is warm, and the sunlight gives life._ She seemed to remember a greenhouse of some sort… what was it, an orangery?- Yes, up the stairs, on the left. The scent of soil, and rotting plant matter reached her before the moist, humid air did, and she found herself gagging a little. Once well tamed plants had either died, or grown wild. The air was sweating, and heavy. The glass in this room was intact and reinforced, though it was coated in a thick layer of grime.

she picked her way over tendrils and roots, searching for something, anything. The note had referred to a combination of some sort. She consulted it again. _Where it is warm, and the sunlight gives life. Look to the source._ The source- Of the sun? She craned her neck, trying to see past the creeping plants that had taken over. Ah!- There; written in black. _Right 36._

She wrote it on the edge of the note.

_If you enjoy a little music, the piano downstairs is no good. what to doe. _Doe? She chuckled a little. Such a silly pun, and yet so inappropriate.

As it happened, she loved music. Before the fire, she'd had a piano in her room (not including the replica, no), and she loved to play. As she grew older, though, it took a back seat. Her training had become her only love, her primary obsession.

She located the dining room easily; it was on the west side of the building, and was perhaps the most beautiful. The once-ivory tablecloth still adorned the table, though instead of plates, silver and crystal, it was scattered with shattered fragments of coloured glass from the windows, glinting in the moonlight, and to her surprise, an owl sat perched on the back of one of the dining chairs. She took one look at Tifa with her wide, amber eyes before giving an indignant hoot and fluttering up to her perch in the rafters. Tifa smiled faintly, crossing the room toward the black piano.

Its surface was scratched, dented, and it was missing a few keys in the lower octaves. Seating herself upon the rickety stool, she began to play one of the only pieces she'd practiced to perfection. It had been her father's favourite, though its name eluded her; A beautiful, haunting song, almost a dirge, though it was uplifting as well as being mournful.

Her audience hooted softly in appreciation from her roost. After giving the owl a polite bow of the head, she stooped over the keys. Doe, Rae, mi, fa, so, la, ti, doe… until she reached one _C_ that wouldn't budge- It was stuck, something wedged underneath it. Frowning, she then noticed the next clue to the combination; barely visible, but still there, scratched into the base of the key. L10.

What a sick man was Hojo, making a game out of another man's peril.

She hurried through the next few clues, her excitement growing despite the possibility of a morbid reward for her efforts.

R59, R97 were the next two numbers, and both were not too difficult find. She couldn't have been looking for much longer than an hour. She scoffed at Cloud's excuse for not looking;_ we haven't got the time_. But of course, he'd had time to sit around, looking gloomy all day. Not that she didn't share in his grief. She had been rather fond of the flower girl, who had just so happened to be the world's only surviving ancient; A walking marvel, a living myth, and not to mention extremely beautiful, utterly captivating… she knew why Cloud had fallen for her.

And who was she? Just plain old Tifa- she had always been there, a steady, comfortable, and familiar presence. Stable, reliable, but nothing else; Just a friend, a link to his hazy past. She had been preparing herself for a long time to simply accept things the way they were, and she was learning to hide her hurt feelings and pained smiles. It would only serve to confuse Cloud, and increase his heavy burden of guilt. She didn't want that.

The safe was located upstairs, she knew, as she'd spotted it on her way to the orangery; a hulking black thing, with an old fashioned dial, and golden handle. It was solid, though, she thought, giving the handle a testing tug. She'd just have to enter the code and see what her reward would be. Her palm sweat as she leaned close, squinting trying to make out the tiny numbers, which were slightly faded. With each click she felt a swell of excitement. R59, R97…. _CLICK!_

The locking mechanisms gave a heavy creak as she turned the handle with some force. The heavy door swung open slowly, taking some pulling to encourage it open. She gazed inside the safe; upon stacks of musty looking files, the odd book and for some peculiar reason, a spoon, she located what she must be looking for; a golden key.

She took it between her quaking fingers, the metal cool to the touch. It was a beautiful, ornate key, with an elaborate swirling pattern etched around the barrel. Set into it was a red gem stone. She frowned, touching it gently with the pad of her finger; it was smaller than she would have thought, but it looked like materia. She'd have to wait for that part though, because right now, she was itching to find the door the key would inevitably open.

She remembered Cloud talking about the basement and its secret entrance, though she pertained a sudden reluctance to venture down _there_. She had grown up hearing shocking accounts and horror stories about the atrocious experiments that had gone on down there. Not to mention the tales of ghosts, and… She shook herself. She was _not_ a child, and she wasn't afraid of monsters; because she _knew_ they _were_ real. Zanghan, her trainer, seemed to pop up before her. _We only fear what we do not understand. If it is real, then you can hurt it._

She checked the remainder of the house regardless, finding only a few closets holding plates and pans, folded linen, and sometimes objects she couldn't or wouldn't identify, though nothing conclusive.

Only then did she resign herself to the obvious; The basement it was, then.

She tried a few of the upstairs rooms en-route, all of them bedrooms, the mattresses coated in leaf litter and dust from disuse and neglect, though she imagined that once, they would have been rather luxurious. In the eastern bedroom overlooking the square (or at least it would have, were there not a wild plant obscuring most of the window), she felt colder, as if there were a breeze coming from somewhere. She ruled out that it was coming from outside, as the leaves of the trees were still for the moment.

Feeling around, she came across the apparent source; a stone wall that seemed to be part of a chimney breast, or a bricked-up doorway. A few prods and pokes around the area revealed a loose stone, which then allowed her to move some of the larger ones out of the way, making a hole large enough for her to get through.

The air coming up out of the dark space beyond was cool, and smelled strongly of musty paper and stagnant water. Lucky she'd thought to bring a torch, she thought, turning it on with a click. Sweeping her torch light around in through the gap, she found stone steps, winding around a central column. She could hear the incessant_ drip, drip _of water. Taking a deep breath, she scrambled through.

Her footsteps sounded wet, with the slight crunch of grit and dirt underfoot. She found she was breathing quietly, deliberately, as if she feared disturbing something. The key was still clutched in her sweaty palm. She reached the bottom.

She was standing in a long tunnel-like chamber, will earthen walls reinforced, though rather poorly, with wooden planks and stone. The stagnant water she had smelt before seemed to be permeating through the walls, dripping to form shallow pools in the recessions either side of the walkway, indicated by duckboards.

She made her way down slowly, her torch beam revealing two doors at the end of the tunnel. One of them was locked when she tested the rusty iron handle, and the other creaked open slowly at a push from her hesitant fingertips. Should she check this room, to clear her mind, and rule out any wild conjurations she was currently harbouring?

She stepped into what appeared to be a library- so _that_ explained the musty paper smell- and there also seemed to be a lingering, bitter chemical odour. A little poking around revealed a large collection of bottles marked with inscriptions she couldn't understand, let alone read, and the large table in the centre of the room wasn't a workbench as she had initially thought; her torch light had revealed bloodstains, well established into the pores of the wood, and leather bindings.

She shivered, though this library-turned-torture chamber didn't seem to be the source of the cold she'd been experiencing; It must be coming from the space beyond the other door, it had to be.

She returned to the earth tunnel, The continuous drip-drop seeming suddenly louder in the cavernous space. The key didn't seem to fit at first, and she feared disappointment was imminent; that was until a dull click rewarded her persistence. The key turned reluctantly, so she resorted to using the bottom of her night dress to grip it better, as her sweating palms were no help.

The handle was rough and cool in her hand as she tugged at it, the heavy wooden door creaking typically. Her anticipation was now fit to burst, her heart thudding twice its normal rate in her chest.

The cold air hit her in full force as she gingerly entered into the dark room, though there seemed to be a dull red glow coming from somewhere. She found the source of the light, sweeping the room with her torch beam. it seemed to be a switch of some kind, obviously linked to the long black shape that was humming distinctively. A machine of some sort perhaps? Holding her breath, she pushed it. The light turned to green.

A sudden hissing sound nearby almost made her bolt for the door, but she realised that it was coming from the long black box she was standing beside. Her torch revealed a handle at the edge.

_Thud-thud-thud_ went her heart. _Oh, this was too strange and scary, perhaps she should call Cloud, or Barret and have them come with her, it was stupid to come alone to this place-_

Then, cold vapour began to surge from beneath the lid. Wait a minute-vapour? Was this some kind of tank?

She reached out a shaking hand, closing her trembling finger around the handle and then pulling, holding her breath in her ready-to-burst lungs…

Then she dared to look inside.

A man, naked from the waist up, lay within, apparently sleeping. He was breathing; sudden, unsteady breaths, mist forming in the cold air of the chamber. He looked near death, though; So pale, his lips and eyelids tinged blue around the edges, midnight black hair framing his face. He had sharp cheek bones, sensitive, full lips, a straight and delicate nose…

She stepped tentatively closer to the open tank, placing her still-trembling fingertips at the pulse point at his throat, pleased that it thudded duly against her finger. He seemed to be waking; his eyelids twitching, a tremor in his lips, a sudden gentle convulsion of his fingers.

"C…can you hear me?" She almost whispered, her throat sore from her heart pounding against it for so long. He didn't wake or move, though his eyebrows twitched ever so slightly. "Please, listen to me. I'm here to help you."

His eyes opened slowly, revealed startling red irises. He took in the ceiling, the walls, and then he looked straight at her, her heart near-stopping in her chest. He took in her ivory skin, framed by long strands of chocolate hair, amber eyes almost emanating a glowing warmth from her gaze.

"To wake me from a nightmare…" He said slowly, his voice deep and smooth. "Are you…an angel?"

She chuckled, flushing a little. "Tifa. My name is Tifa. and I can assure you, I am no angel. Are you… I mean, what is this? Are you alright?" After testing his muscles, he slowly sat upright, his eyes never leaving hers. She placed a hand on his shoulder, almost withdrawing it immediately. His skin was _freezing_.

"I am… alive." He replied after a moment, surveying his pale hands, and gazing down at his body.

"We should get you out of here, somewhere warm."

"Where am I, exactly?" He seemed more alert, apparently strong enough to swing his legs over the side of his tank. She hovered indecisively, unsure of whether to offer her assistance.

"Nibelheim. Or at least, where it once was. This isn't the Nibelheim I knew." She shook her head sadly.

"Was? What happened?"

"It burned down seven years ago. A man named Sephiroth did it."

His startling red eyes found hers, confusion and anger emanating from within them. "Sephiroth? Tell me, how old would you say he was?"

She thought carefully. "It's difficult to say." She shook her head again. "Perhaps thirty."

He was on his feet, though at her words, he seemed to become unsteady. She reached out to grasp his upper arm, gripping only until he regained his balance.

"Thirty years…" He said softly, gazing at his feet absently. "I have been propelled into a future that I must set right."

"Set right?" She let go of his arm. "Future? How long have you been here?"

"I was… imprisoned whilst the baby was still inside it's mother's womb. So if what you say is true, then a minimum of thirty years."

"And this… tank, thing- it's kept you… the same age?"

"It would seem so."

"How terrible…"

"I need clothes."

"Oh, of course! I think there are some here," She had begun opening some of the random crates stacked up against the walls, and had found a black shirt, a pair of boots, and a travelling cloak. "Though they look a little old. Until we can get you some more, I guess they'll do."

"We?" He reached out a hand for the shirt, his movements slow, and a little disjointed.

"I'm here with my friends. We are an anti-ShinRa group, trying to stop Sephiroth."

"Anti-ShinRa…." He seemed to see the things she had presented him with for the first time, his eyes filled with sadness and a kind of bitter amusement. "These clothes were my father's. Ha. Funny Hojo."

"Hojo put you here, right? He mentioned in the note he left that you were a Turk."

"No. Not anymore." He said stiffly, buttoning up the black shirt. "I am done with ShinRa."

"Well, good. I kind of hate the Turks. Especially that stupid redhead…" She grumbled.

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow, though he seemed amused.

"They seem to be following us. It's rather irritating."

"Hm. I see." He stepped into the boots, and after a moment's thought, threw the cloak over his arm. "Well, Miss Tifa… I would like to ask your permission to join you."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I should have been clearer. Sephiroth is partly my responsibility. I wish to help you and your… friends stop him."

"Yes… Well, I'm sure Cloud won't mind. But first, you should tell me your name at least." She interlaced her hands behind her back, tapping one foot. He gave her a gentle, whimsical smile.

"My name, is Vincent Valentine." He stopped himself adding 'reporting for duty'. Old habits die hard.

"Well, Vincent… We should get out of here."

"After you." He let her pass him, out into the earth chamber. She smiled at his gentility. Now _that_ you didn't see these days.

She could already tell she was going to like Vincent.

Revised, and improved. JJ 13/11/10


	2. Retreat

**So here's another chapter for you all, had good feedback so far, so it'd be nice if it kept up! Exams are finally out of the way, so you can expect a little more form me that you've been getting. I promise not to Cloud bash **_**too**_** badly.**

**I've upped the rating to M however, due to Tifa and Cid's language**

2. Retreat

Cloud was angry. Why had she gone in alone, it was dangerous-- who knew what could be lurking in the shadows-- He'd shot a sidelong glance at Vincent here, who stayed silent throughout their heated discussion, and Tifa had cracked.

Maybe it was time, she had fumed, he started looking forwards, instead of back. They all felt the loss, hell, she even felt somehow she was partly accountable, but if the mission was going to suffer because of his inability to make the right decisions, then she was inclined to put Barret back in charge.

His chest had heaved at her words, though he was stunned to silence. She never argued with him. Never. She never shouted, never got angry. Because before now, she'd always been afraid of pushing him away. Though now, she knew he had already forced the wedge about as far as he could manage.

"I apologise for this-- I didn't realise my presence would be such--"Vincent had mumbled after a drawn out, painful silence, making her jump a little. She'd forgotten he'd been stood behind her, silent and watchful throughout the whole ordeal. They were gathered stiffly in the living room of 'her' house, minus Cloud, who had stepped outside for 'fresh air'. Cid was smoking, watching them carefully through the haze.

She raised her hand to silence him.

"Don't think any of this is your fault. A lot had happened before… before I found you. I guess it had to come out sooner or later." She sighed heavily, running her fingers through her hair. She realised belatedly, catching sight of the gaping white sleeve, that she was still wearing her nightdress. "I should change. Cid, make him feel welcome, would you?"

She bounded up the stairs and set about locating her clothes, her mind still racing with all the angry words she hadn't said, had refrained from saying. It wouldn't do any good, being mad at him. It wouldn't change anything. Nothing at all. Dressed in a yellow shirt and black knee length shorts, she found she was unable to distract herself with a purpose, casting her eyes about her counterfeit bedroom.

The piano was almost identical, just without the few scratches it had accrued over the years; each which she had done her best to hide from her father's sight. The stool didn't have that same creak when she sat on it. None of her music books. Just a note from her old trainer, Zanghan. She'd have to track him down one day. She owed him so much.

The keys emitted a sudden splurge of notes as she placed her elbows there, and covered her face with her hands. She sobbed into her palms, suddenly weak, spineless. She couldn't do this anymore-- chasing a foe around the planet who was way beyond any of them. Superhuman, evil, hell-bent on revenge. She didn't know if she was strong enough, if Cloud was strong enough. She didn't know what she would do if--

She wiped her tears away angrily with the heel of her hand, standing abruptly and throwing her pack over her shoulder.

She'd just have to be strong enough for the both of them.

***

The mountain trek seemed more arduous than she remembered it. By the time a hazy midday sun had reached its pinnacle in the sky, she was sweating, leg muscles aching from heaving herself up ledges, refusing to accept the offer of anyone's hand to aid her. She didn't need it.

Cloud seemed hesitant to allow them a rest, well aware of the dangers of the Nibel Mountains, but they weren't called The Bastard Peaks for nothing, and with an exhausted entourage doing their best to keep up, minus a complaining Yuffie, he was forced to call them to a stop. Tifa huffed out a breath, almost throwing herself to the ground on her backside, letting her head droop between her knees. Over her breathing, she heard boots scrape to a stop by her side, and after a moment, heard their owner ease themselves to a seated position.

"How are you keeping?" His voice was quiet, as if he didn't want the others to hear. She leant back against a vertical rock, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, to view him better.

"Just about. You?" He was pale; his face lit by the glaring sun showed as much, and she took a moment to appreciate his face, now that she could distinguish its finer features.

"It's been a while since I've stretched my legs, let's just say." He gave a small laugh through his nose. "But I don't seem to be suffering." Defined jaw line, though it seemed somewhat ruined by the length of his hair, which she noted, didn't seem to be staying out of his eyes. He seemed bless with high cheek bones, and well formed brow bones.

"Lucky for some. Here-- you might be needing this." She unwound the spare elastic from her wrist.

"You don't seem… unfit." He selected his vocabulary carefully, and Tifa hid the barest hint of a smile behind her hand, as she watched him tie his hair back roughly, in a way that suggested he wasn't practised in doing so. So his hair hadn't always been that way-- just as well, and she thought with a secret smile that perhaps that fact wouldn't make it so hard to convince him to get it cut someday.

"Thank you."

"Tifa, water here." Cloud called to her. She opened her palms, deftly catching the bottle he tossed to her. She drained half the bottle, before holding it out to her companion.

"We won't be too long. Cloud doesn't really like these mountains much. Though, I have bad memories here myself."

"May I ask why?" He twirled the bottle between his palms.

"My Mother committed suicide here," She wiped the sweat from her forehead on the back of her glove, little infliction of emotion to her tone. "We passed the ledge not so long back."

Vincent frowned. "Why did she kill herself?"

"Depression. She'd been on medication for years. Think she'd just had enough." Tifa glanced up at the clear skies, busied herself with dusting down her pants before she stood again, readjusting her elbow plate.

"Forgive me for being… inquisitive. I'm just trying to figure you out."

"Figure me out?" She placed one hand on her hip, shifting her weight to one leg.

"Yes. You're very… difficult to read."

"Wow. Well, nice to know someone's interested." She gave him a slight wink.

"Nibel Wolves!-- Dead ahead!" Cid's shout startled her-- they hadn't encountered anything all day, and they stop to take a rest for one damn minute…

"Yes." Vincent's voice was firm as he stared in the direction Cid was pointing. "but… I think there may be something else."

Tifa squinted, clambering atop a rock to view the chasm they had just crossed at a better vantage point. "Fuck… fuck." She cursed, her mind scrambling for a solution. "Run, it's a god damn pack-- and they've got the biggest alpha male I've seen in my life."

She threw her pack over her shoulder, breaking into a sprint along with the others. The loose stones crunched underfoot as she ran, and in some places, she would have lost her footing were it not for a firm had at her elbow.

"Careful!" Cid growled, casting a glance backwards. Vincent had armed himself back in Nibel, and had his weapon at the ready, just in case. "Hurry up, Vinnie, yer bullets are no good against these fuckers!"

The path ahead narrowed, and Tifa felt her stomach flip. The wolves wouldn't make much headway here, though they were nimble and agile, designed for the mountains; they would scramble over the rocks with ease and meet them ahead, where they would have no choice but to fight them off.

"We're might have to fight, keep on your toes!" Tifa yelled ahead, skidding to a stop, waiting for Yuffie to sidle along the narrow edge, then Cid, then…

"After you," Vincent said, the faintest of smiles flashing across his hardened visage. The gap was only a little wider than her boots were long, and she found herself holding her breath as she placed her back and palms flat to the rock face and began to shift sideways, towards where Cloud waited anxiously, sword drawn at the ready, her pack a slight impairment on her balance. A high pitched, inhuman howl sent shivers down her spine. It sounded like it was right above her head. She grit her teeth and continued on, concentrating on the placement of her feet only. Just two more steps, and she'd be there…

Cloud's hand was a momentary pressure on her arm, aiding her from the ledge, before it was gone, the kiss of cool air where it had rested being the only affirmation of it ever existing. She watched Vincent anxiously, who seemed to be making light work of the ledge. He made it safely, giving her the slightest of nods in response to her worried gaze.

The chase ensued with rushing wind in her face, cooling her sweat to her skin, only to send it to ice as the ever present threat was enforced further by the howls of the beasts that were at their heels. Cloud Red and Yuffie, seemingly the fastest, vanished out of sight after a time of seemingly ceaseless running, and she was ahead presented with two choices of direction. With time being of the essence, she chose left, Vincent following her close behind. After sprinting until she felt her lungs were going to burst, she began to fear she had lost the others. Barret and Cid had been behind her, though they were no more, and there were no replies to her breathless shouts.

"Tifa, stop. We aren't-- being followed-- anymore. For the moment--at least." Vincent articulated to her through his laboured breathing. His face gleamed with sweat, his dark clothing covered in the grey dust they'd kicked up from the trail. A glance down at herself revealed her to be in a similar state.

"Where the-- hell are we?" Since their turning, they seemed to be heading downhill, with steep rock faces rising up either side of their path. If she listened, she could pick out the sounds of wind rustling leaves, and running water. It was certainly cooler, out of the sun.

"We were-- heading towards -- Rocket?" She nodded. "We are heading-- east I believe… We can't be far from--- the forest. Just a little detour."

"I hope the others are safe…" She fretted, chewing at her lip. "I'll try Cloud's PHS." She thrust the device to her ear after punching in the number. "Shit-- no reception."

"I don't understand." He eyed her PHS ruefully.

"We should keep moving."

"Good plan. Ladies first."

***

The woods were a reprieve from the baking midday sun, though she found herself sweating under the cover of the tree's canopy, the air think and damp. Moisture clung to her body, dripped form her hair, and she could only imagine what she looked like. The air was filled with the calls of birds, and Tifa felt soothed by them.

They began to walk north-east, a direction which should lead them out of the forest, towards Rocket, or at least somewhere they could get reception, Tifa thought. She didn't like not being about to contact Cloud. She didn't want him to U-turn back to the mountains and get himself into a tangle, all because of some sense of duty. She could handle herself. Besides, Vincent had proved himself a dead-shot.

They'd been walking in silence for some time now, leaf litter crunching under foot, passing in and out of patches of sunlight that somehow managed to penetrate the canopy overhead. Vincent was alert and watchful, his trigger fingers never far from his holstered weapon. She felt a little more at ease with him at her side.

"I don't like this."

She turned to face him, brow furrowed. "Hm?"

"Something isn't right… The birds have stopped singing." She strained her ears, and sure enough, the din was gone, replaced by an unearthly hush. The leaves rustled in a slight breeze. "You have materia?"

"Yes. I have defensive mostly, though there is something else..." He didn't seem to be listening.

"Stay alert. I think we are being followed. Let's just keep moving for now."

He quickened his pace, and she almost had to run to keep in time with his long strides. over their footfalls, she could hear a pattering of many feet. No, not feet. Paws…

"GET DOWN!" He was furious, powerful, weapon drawn, shots landing true between the eyes of the approaching wolf. He must have been the hungry one, Tifa thought vaguely, her back against a tall tree. They didn't hunt like that, Nibel wolves. They worked in tactics, unbreakable units, wearing down, overpowering their prey.

Vincent may be a good shot, but if he were to miss just one, then they would be able to break through and… Oh, why did she let Cloud swap around her materia? She _hated_ it when he did that at the best of times, let alone at the worst, at _this_ time…

She could hear the beasts were excited, closing in, no doubt driven mad by the scent of her sweat…

Vincent waited, aiming difficult between the tree trunks, curses falling from his lips in a steady unbroken stream. They weren't going to make it without taking some damage… and he knew which of them was the most vulnerable right now…

A nearby snarl set shivers down his spine; they were going to attack-- but from which direction? Sweat dripped from his face, his heart racing in a strange staccato in his chest. Oh god, not her, please, she didn't deserve this, didn't deserve to die this way…

And then it was behind him, and it was too late to turn, and aim, and fire… only a few seconds, but a few seconds too late… and…

All time stopped. For Tifa the earth ceased its turning, and the world around them froze into place. Vincent stood not far from her, his body rigid, eyes wide, filled with fear, fury. She felt as though she had been plunged into ice; her skin rose in goose bumps, the hair at the back of her neck stood on end, and her joints seemed unable to respond to her urges to move them. One wolf was suspended in air before her, gleaming teeth bared, slick with saliva, eyes burning with hunger and frenzy. She could almost count, if she'd wanted to, the individual droplets of moisture clinging to its shaggy grey fur.

She took in a shaking breath. The golden key which hung between her breasts clutched tightly in her left hand, the red stone glinting unnaturally. She'd instinctually reached for it, seeing it as a possible route to safety out of their peril. But she didn't know she had unleashed something much more than she had hoped for.

Vincent's eyes moved to hers, engaging her in a stare that seemed to last an eternity; she was cold, hot, weightless, everything, and nothing, under his eyes.

Then he spoke. "What have you done…"

Her lips parted and she uttered one word. "Chaos."

The clock ticked forwards. And everything moved once more.

Vincent was emanating a heat like nothing she had felt before; it warmed her instantly, calmed her frayed nerves. His eyes closed, and his arms fell to his side, limp, useless. They were now more in danger than they could be.

Then his eyes opened.

Golden irises replaced his wine, his body changed before her, no longer his own. A magnificent, terrible creature, winged and clawed, towering above her. But she wasn't afraid. She felt calm. Nothing but calm. Because she had called for him. And he had answered.

The wolves howled.

Teeth sank into flesh, tearing, searing, and she felt warm blood slide down her neck, her chest, soak through her shirt. Of course, she could have laughed; she wasn't to think they were _invincible_. Foolish Tifa…

Her world went silent, and black.

* * *

Well, what did you think?

xx


	3. Stitches

**So, here's a long one for you, lots of gaps to fill in, if the last 'batch' of reviews were anything to go by. Thanks all for reading, and please do review, it helps me a lot. Thank you to all of you who read and review my work religiously, you have all become my driving force. Thank you, thank you and thank you.**

**This one is for you.**

3. Stitches

Cloud was restless.

They'd reached Rocket an hour before nightfall, to find Tifa and Vincent had not arrived before them. He'd wanted to go looking, but Cid had assured him that Tifa would be safe, with a shot like Vincent to watch out for her. Cloud had argued that there was no guarantee they were even together, though Cid's raised eyebrow confirmed what he was really thinking. The dark-haired, mysterious gunman had taken to talking with Tifa, and only Tifa since his… release. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Listen," Cid was at his side, hand scratching his stubbled chin. "I ain't seen a shot like Vincent before. An' Tifa's no easy target. They'll turn up. If not, we go out at first light. The plains aren't safe, even for mugs like us, after dark."

"I still think we should have turned back."

"Cloud, I grew up in this town. Nobody ever came back that went out at dark. It's almost like… another world, that jus' swallows yer whole."

So they had found an inn close to the town's gates, and settled in the main room by the roaring fire, though none of the group were relaxed; Tifa's presence in general served to settle them, and it had come as a shock to learn she was not with them, when they had finally stopped running in the mountains. The path had forked several times, but he could've sworn she was right behind them… Could he just sit here and let another woman he cared about stay in danger? that's if the wolves hadn't already caught up with her…

"..I swear, that Vincent's a vampire. No one stays alive for _that_ long in a creepy house, comin' out lookin' so goddamn pale and _isn't_ a vampire." Yuffie was trying her best to lighten up the atmosphere, though her wild stories did nothing to ease Cloud's already turbulent mind. What if he was a vampire? He'd already seen pretty weird things already on their journey, things he would never have thought possible until now. What if Vincent wasn't really to be trusted? What if he'd lured Tifa away and--

At that moment, Nanaki rose from his place by the fire, ears twitching, his single gleaming yellow eye wide and alert. "From another world, one returns. I can smell him."

Cloud rushed to the window; in the pale amber glow from the house's, he could make out shadows, nothing more.

Outside, a cold wind chilled him, coming from the north, where the Nibel mountains stood black, and daunting against a backdrop of stars. in a strip of light from an open door, Cloud finally saw them.

Tifa's body hung limp in his arms. Her face was turned away, pressed into his chest, held tight against his body, his tricep muscles straining with the extra burden. Tifa's hair had come undone somewhere along the way, and it draped over his arm, almost to his knees, fluttering in the breeze like a torn flag.

Vincent's expression was unreadable; his jaw set, his mako enhanced irises glowing strangely. Their clothes were torn, and caked in blood. For a moment, Cloud thought wildly that he must have done it; but the thought was gone at the sight of Vincent's wounds. They had clearly been attacked.

"Is she alright?" Cloud tried to ask, but Vincent said nothing, walking directly past him through the inn's door and up the stairs. Cloud followed, finding him placing Tifa's lifeless form on one of the beds.

"She is alive. We were ambushed by the entire pack. She will be needing stitches."

"Should I fetch a doctor?" The inn keeper's wife had arrived at the commotion, chewing her nails nervously as she observed the scene before her.

"I am sufficiently trained to deal with a few flesh wounds. If you have a first aid kit, that would be most helpful, ma'am."

Cloud scowled. "What're you doing?"

"I'm taking care of it, Cloud."

"Where the hell did you go back there? You've been missing for hours!"

"If you want Tifa to live, I suggest , that you back. Off."

His eyes widened, though Cloud said nothing, stepping back into one of the room's corners.

He watched Vincent carefully as he worked; he cut away the shreds of her shirt with no evident thought to her femininity, and for a moment, Cloud respected him. _He_ would've hesitated. The wounds were deep, though clean enough, and Vincent set to work stitching them, bent over her in concentration. There seemed to be a chunk of flesh missing at her shoulder, and Vincent swore, muttering something about it being almost _too_ close to her artery. Aside from this, he said nothing more, and worked in silence. When it was done, he reached into his pack and retrieved a loose black shirt, which he set about manoeuvring her into.

"She should sleep for now. I don't expect she will wake until morning."

"Vincent--"

"Yes?" He turned to face Cloud, though his eyes were screwed shut, His fingers rubbing at one of his temples.

"You are also injured, shouldn't you--"

"I will heal. For now, I must sleep."

"Vincent-- thank you. I don't know what I would do if-- I lost her, too."

Vincent observed him carefully for a moment, before giving a slight nod of acceptance. "You are welcome. But I didn't do it for you."

The snap of a door confirmed Vincent had shut himself into one of the rooms, and he didn't feel inclined to disturb him. Such a strange man, Cloud thought, though he felt that despite any misgivings he may have, he was someone he could trust.

Tifa was breathing deeply, slow, and shallow; typical of a deep sleep. Cloud watched her carefully, before approaching. She was beautiful, as she had always been, though in the years since he had last seen her, she'd grown into a woman, and a strong one at that. She was stubborn, he thought with a slight smirk, though he was glad to have someone so loyal by his side. It helped him remember who he was, reminded him why he was fighting against an apparently invincible foe.

Her skin was warm, perfectly smooth. Her stomach rose and fell gently beneath his fingertips. The scar ran from her hip, across her ribcage, and no doubt between her breasts. Sephiroth's blade had carved the crescent moon into her body, and it would stay that way for the rest of her life. Only twenty years old; too young to be tangled up in this. In saving the world.

There was so much at stake.

"Didn't mean to walk in on yer feelin' Tifa up in her sleep n' all," Yuffie strode boldly into the room, and he felt the involuntary flush creep up his neck.

"I-- I was just--Her scar…" he finished lamely.

She waved her hand. "Forget it, I won't tell her. I gotta sleep here too, y'know. But just so you know, I have scars too."

"Whatever that's supposed to mean."

He left the room, closing the door behind him, and Yuffie chuckled to herself. Such an idiot. Blind even to blatant flirting; what hope did Tifa have in making him see _she_ was in love with him?

Not a shred.

***

How could she have known? She _couldn't_ have known. She would never have done it, surely, had she of known. But what if she wasn't as caring and trustworthy as she came across?

No. He didn't know her well, but he knew that much. He could trust her. Or at least, he hoped so.

Lying in the dark, Vincent focused on the pain. It radiated from several points on his body- his back, hip, thigh. He'd not even noticed them at first. On waking-- or whatever it was-- from his transformation, the clearing was littered with corpses of the wolves, the air thick with the mournful cries of the survivors, who had been smart enough to run. Even bleeding and weakened, they didn't approach him again.

Tifa was lifeless, though her pulse beat weakly at her throat, pulsing blood gently out of her wounds. He'd used what curative Materia he could find on her, succeeding in stopping the blood flow. But he'd have to get her to safety. They were possibly miles away from Rocket, and he was bleeding from _somewhere_-- But he didn't think about it. Instead, he'd slipped an arm around her back, the other hooked under her knees and had driven himself on, going over the rhythm of his laboured steps in his mind, to keep him focused. He couldn't let her down, not again…

And he'd made it. Somehow.

She was safe, and he was left to contemplate his situation.

He was a monster. Or at least, he had been. Had it just been a single occurrence? Had Hojo somehow put something within him that could be awakened? That, he could understand. There were no limits to that bastard's evil. It wasn't even his _fucking_ place to decide-- but then of course, it hadn't been Vincent's place to sleep with--

No. Not now. It wasn't important. At least, not any more. Lucrecia knew everything that went on in those labs, hell, she was the orchestrator most of the time. She's let this happen. She couldn't have cared that much, not about a lowly Turk. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much was to be gained from--

Did she know? Or had she acted blindly, out if instinct?

Should he run? Would she scream monster, and have him leave their group?-- or worse, have him incarcerated?

No. He couldn't believe that. Not Tifa…

Not Lucrecia, she wouldn't…

But she did.

***

She dreamt she was drowning. A common dream, apparently, though there was something lingering, something familiar, that had caused her to wake choking with tears. The water was so still, so blue, and someone had let her go, let her float to the bottom… Someone tall and fair, their form distorted above the rippling water's surface. Someone with blue eyes like crystal…

"Tifa-- are you alright? Don't scream, I'm not tryin' to kill you!" Yuffie, her slim body warm in Tifa's arms as she held tightly, swallowing the cry that had been forming in her throat.

"I was… dreaming… Wait-- Yuffie? Where am I?"

"You're in Rocket. _Vincent_ brought you back last night."

"Vincent… He is… he is here?" Her mind was working slowly, trying to process the information.

"Yeah-- next room. Locked himself in last night."

"Is it… early?"

"Not yet dawn-- if you wanna go see him, I'll go back to bed, if ya don't mind, I'm beat." Yuffie extracted herself from Tifa's hold, yawning as she clambered back in-between her still-warm sheets.

Moving her arm caused her pain-- then she remembered the wolves. Beneath the folds of an unfamiliar black shirt revealed a scattering of deep wounds, stitched neatly, and already healing. One by her navel, the large semi-circle bite mark at her shoulder, and one shallow gash across her breast that had been left-- she was thankful it wasn't deep enough to warrant stitching.

She knocked softly at his door, turning the handle silently, and stepping into his room. The curtains were still open, bathing the room in a weak grey-pink light; the sun was coming up in the valley outside. He was sleeping, to her surprise; she'd expected him to be awake. Though it didn't seem as though it had been a peaceful night; his sheets were tangled up on the floor, no doubt having been kicked off, and he hadn't tended to his wounds. They adorned his naked back in a scattering of red punctures, no doubt from the razor sharp teeth of the Nibel Wolves.

"Vincent?" She called his name softly, seating herself at the other side of the bed, where he was facing. His eyes snapped open, gaze sweeping over her face and body swiftly.

"You are awake…"

"Listen… I'm sorry for what happened back in the forest. I…" She placed a hand at her throat, roughly grasping the golden chain that hung there, drawing out the key from its place resting against her chest. "I didn't know what this would… what it would do to you."

"You didn't know?" He sat up with a wince, watching her face intently.

"No, I swear. I just… wasn't thinking… I'm sorry."

Despite himself, he laughed through his nose. "After what you saw, you're worried about me forgiving you? I thought you'd demand answers, at the very least."

"I doubt you would know any more than I did. Am I right?" Relaxed a little, she turned her attention to his wounds. "Didn't they do your wounds too?"

"Who?"

"Whoever did this!" She lifted the hem of her shirt to point to the stitched wound that spanned her abdomen. Her smile faded at the sight of his gentle blush. He tried to hide it, turning his face away, his expression hidden by his ebony hair.

"I did." Expression reassembled, his stony gaze penetrated her.

"Oh." She finished lamely. "Well, thank you. For saving me, and for doing this."

"Are you experiencing any discomfort?"

"What- with the situation, or with the wounds?"

"Ahem, the wounds."

"No, it seems you did a good job."

"Cloud will want to know you're awake." He swung his legs over the bed, turning his back to Tifa and retrieving a shirt he had set aside for the morning. "And I suppose we should tell them about…"

"Chaos?"

"How did you know what to call it?" He frowned as he buttoned his shirt swiftly. "The… Summon. Whatever it was."

"I just… I just knew. It's like that will all the Summon materia. When you use it, the… _being_, or whatever you want to call it, speaks to you, _through_ you even. I didn't even know it would work-- the piece was so small… But it was the only thing I could… Oh Vincent, I'm so sorry!"

Before he could prepare himself, she had moved around him, taking his hand between hers. "Tifa-- I don't blame you-- it's obvious that this is Hojo's doing."

"You are… sure?"

"I seem to remember Lucrecia talking about some… ancient Materia they had found in a remote cave somewhere. This must have been what she was referring to. Though I never thought…"

"Lucrecia?" Tifa's brow furrowed, and she let go of his hand. He became aware of the absence of her warmth.

"She was a scientist… working with Hojo." He stalled, aware of how uncomfortable he felt. Though something within him wanted to get it out, to tell _someone_. And Tifa was the best candidate at that moment. "She was his wife. Though she and I…"

"You had an affair?" Tifa looked interested, and he sighed, seating himself on the bed once more.

"Yes."

"There is more, right?"

"Tifa… There are things that I am going to tell you which… might change your view of me."

"The past is past. It doesn't really matter." She seemed so sincere, and his mind screamed at him to stop. But he had to know. He had to know how forgiving she really was. Even if it meant hurting her.

"You are aware that Lucrecia was the woman who gave birth to Sephiroth?"

"I though Jenova--"

"No. Jenova was just the experiment. The ancient being whose cells were found to give… enhanced abilities when tested on mice, and on adult subjects. But Hojo wanted to test the effects of the cells on a human embryo in the womb. He wanted to observe the developmental trajectory of such a child. And when Lucrecia became pregnant, he was presented with a more than willing test subject."

"Lucrecia _wanted_ her baby to be… an _experiment_?" Tifa seated herself slowly next to him, a hand on her chest. "What sort of woman would do that?"

"She was a woman of science." He said with bitterness. "She wanted, no, _craved_ recognition-- her other theses weren't… taken well, by the scientific community. She was a laughing stock. She wanted to show she could do something noteworthy."

"Weren't her reasons… selfish?"

"Tifa… Lucrecia and I were sleeping together for five months." Her blush was evident, though he chose to ignore it. "She suddenly became distant, cold. And it transpired she was pregnant. There was a chance that… The baby could have been mine."

"You…" She stood slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. "Are…"

"_Could_ be, Tifa. I tried to find out, but there was only so much a could do in my position! I was just a Turk. Hojo was a very powerful man. If I were to admit I had been sleeping with his wife, not to mention the fact that the baby could be mine, I would have been killed-- Lucrecia too, perhaps. I loved her too much to… to risk that." He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at the floor.

Tifa observed him, trying to see past her own anger, and understand how she would have felt in his position. Pregnancies are more often than not accidental; it was Lucrecia who had chosen to sacrifice her baby, not Vincent.

He _could_ have fathered the monster she knew as Sephiroth. Her empathy for the man seemed to overwhelm her suddenly, and she took a moment to massage her throat, to rub away the ache of impending tears. A man to whom thirty years ago was yesterday, and who didn't know whether the man his companions were hunting down for unspeakable crimes was his son. She couldn't imagine being in a situation like his, where his body may not be his own, where the woman he had loved had betrayed him, where nothing around him was relevant, familiar.

"Did you try to make her see sense?"

He scoffed. "_Tried_? Tifa, I exhausted every moral argument I could. But she was resolute. She wanted to do it for 'the greater good of science'. Eventually though, I couldn't take it anymore. I confronted Hojo."

"And he put you in the stasis tank, right?"

"No doubt as a punishment. Probably one I deserved. Sometimes… well… I say sometimes-- for me, it has only been a week since I last saw her face. But… in reality it is over thirty years." She was sure she saw his wipe away a tear. "Sometimes I think it would have been better to have died trying. Then at least, I would have known I had done all I could for… For the baby."

"But now it's a raging monster, killing innocent people."

"No one understands that better than you, and if I am the father of this… man, then I offer you my sincerest apology."

"No, Vincent." Tifa was closer than he had thought, her fingertips a pleasant tingle of pressure at the crease of his arm. "I don't blame you. I don't think you could have done more, like you said. And I trust you completely. I would probably be dead now, if it weren't for you."

"You are welcome."

She fought with the silence, struggling to find something to say. His eyes were on her again. "I should look at your wounds. They looked pretty nasty."

"I'd rather you didn't, I'm sorry. I am… not entirely comfortable with that."

"Oh-- Right! I'm sorry. Well, I should… Go and tell Cloud that I'm ok. He would have been worried."

"Yes."

"Goodbye, Vincent."

"Tifa."

She closed the door behind her, pressing her back to the wood for a moment to gather herself. She could have sworn she had seen him smirking a little at her desperate grope for words. Though she _itched_ to know why he was uncomfortable. Perhaps he wasn't ready to trust her with seeing him half naked. Though, she thought with a smirk of her own, that he'd taken that experience from her already without her knowledge.

She noted that he had not asked for ownership of the key; perhaps he had just forgotten, though she reminded herself to offer it to him, next time they were alone. She told herself, with a certain amount of mental shaking, that she shouldn't really be looking forward to it so much.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and review PLEASE! **

**xx**


	4. Burning

Sorry it's been a long time since I have updated. I know what I want to put, but I can't seem to find the drive lately. Please review so I know my struggles to wring my brain for material are not futile!

* * *

4. Burning

Cloud had received the new better than Tifa had expected. She'd had told him everything she knew about Vincent, save for a few things she chose to keep to herself. She made it clear she wanted him around, and that she trusted him implicitly. It seemed to be good enough for him; she didn't often make such a point about things unless she was serious about it-- after all, she had done the same for him with Barret, when she had found him in the Sector 7 slums station.

The rest of Avalanche hadn't really had much contact with their newest member, and it didn't seem to affect their opinion of him. Barret was always wary of newcomers, she'd assured Vincent, and that to ignore him was the best course of action-- an action it seemed he was already well practised in. Secretly, though, it thrilled her that he chose to talk with her; That he would walk with her, ask for _her_ opinion, for _her_ guidance. Perhaps rescuing him from the basement had left quite the impression on him.

She did notice he was become more subdued, though; as they left Rocket, for somewhere perhaps more promising with regards to Intel, he seemed to shrink back from everyone, keeping space between them. And she could understand his reasons. People looked at him like he weren't human, and he knew as much about them as they did of him. He kept himself inside of his little bubble of silence, and solitude, and it seemed to be working well for him.

She was there to probe him a little from time to time, and she was pleased to find he seemed to accept her company readily. He would listen to her think aloud, laugh at her stupid ad-lib jokes and accidental puns, and he also seemed to possess a strange accuracy for reading her feelings.

Their travels took them gradually further north. Despite the fact that she opted for longer sleeves, regardless of the restrictions, the impending chill was getting to her; to all of them. Crossing the ocean on a swaying tug boat, they reached a new, though considerably smaller continent, caked in a layer of ice and snow. People they had met in towns along the way had spoken of sightings of ShinRa operatives, moving gradually North ahead of them. Cloud seemed to hold fast to the idea that following them would surely lead them to Sephiroth.

She was privately ashamed of her reluctance for haste.

***

Their journey's path left them no choice but to go through the Forgotten City. She'd felt less at peace passing through that place this time, haunted by the memories she had from her last visit. Vincent of course knew nothing of their ordeal here; no one dared to speak of it in Cloud's presence, more out of respect than fear. Tifa did her best to fill him in when she got a moment out of earshot, massaging away the lump in her throat; the loss, for her, was still close to the surface-- poignant, and suffocating, if she allowed it to be. He simply nodded, raised a hand to stop her. They'd lost a friend here, that was all he needed to know. Not that he was one to ask blundering questions. The rest he could work out for himself.

Cloud had the same haunted look as that of a person who had lost somebody dear to them. He'd observed Tifa's behaviour long enough to realise that this person had something to do with Cloud, part of her reason for hiding her feelings for him. This woman, Aeris, was a friend to Tifa, and lover to Cloud. He wondered how she could have handled that difficult situation, the balance between friendship and disloyalty, when she had been alive. It was fairly obvious to Vincent how Tifa felt about Cloud, as it must have been to everyone else too. Although, with each day she seemed to be getting stronger; he looked at her then, stood on the crest of the hill overlooking the beautiful desolation that was the Forgotten City, her fists clenched and her jaw set. Her anger, would serve to make her strong, one day.

She was furious that ShinRa had passed through here before them; how dare they spoil such a holy, magical place? A graveyard city, once home to an intelligent, and poorly understood people? A race they had been trying for years to exploit in Aeris, and her mother before her. They were people, treat like specimens. She was more than happy to let Vincent get his revenge, though when she met Hojo, she wanted to land at least one solid punch in his weasel-like face. Break his glasses, or if she was lucky, his nose.

She was a temperamental person at the best of times, and she knew her moods were one of her great flaws; frustration, impatience, and her inattentiveness all detracted away from her focus. It had been that way for as long as she could remember; Zanghan was always the one to point that out to her during her training classes. She tried her best not to show it. She couldn't let it get in the way now, though she used it, channelled it, to focus herself.

To remind her why she was fighting.

No longer sheltered in the valley of the Cetra City, flanked either side by snow-capped mountain ranges, the bitter winds beat at them with full force. She was wearing several layers, as well as Cid's kindly donated jacket intermittently, but it did little to dispel the chill that bit at her bones. She soldiered on, head bowed into the wind, a makeshift scarf wound tightly around her neck and face. Vincent could sense it; in the silence he could hear her teeth chatter, and she wouldn't stop shivering for a long time, even when they had reached shelter. He did not voice his concerns to her; she was proud, and he didn't want to patronise her. Though it was getting to a point where he was struggling with his fear for her health.

If they encountered any monsters, she was not chosen to fight, instead backing their party with magic. Her muscles would not respond to her commands, and her mind seemed to process things slowly. Vincent's concern festered, mutating into agitation to reach the next village, before things took a turn for the worst.

When at last they reached Icicle Village, the tiny settlement nestled between the hills, his fears were realised as she collapsed in the lobby of the village inn. He dropped his pack to catch her with one arm, swearing under his breath at the strain in his muscle.

"What the fuck just happened?" Barret was yelling, his brow creased with worry. Vincent lowered her gently to the ground in silence, taking off his leather glove with his teeth to touch his hand to her forehead. Her skin burning, sweating, and she was shaking.

"I've been keeping an eye on her. I think she may have hypothermia." Vincent muttered, as Cloud arrived at her side, stooping to examine her as well.

"Damn it, we're so close!" Cloud cursed, his gaze flitting from the man he had been berating for information, and back to Tifa. "We can't stay here and wait for her to recover-- we'll lose ShinRa. And Sephiroth."

"Then go." Vincent told him. Cloud's gaze returned abruptly to Vincent, his expression caught between gratitude and anxiety. "I will remain here, and get help."

"Why you?" Cid chewed thoughtfully on the end of his cigarette butt, watching Vincent carefully through snow speckled goggles.

"My weapon is long range. With the blizzards closing in, I'll be useless to you in poor visibility." He reasoned. "You can… call us in a few days, and we'll catch up with you."

"He talks sense," Cid nodded slowly, belatedly removing the goggles from his face, rubbing at the red lines they had left there. "Tifa'd be pissed if we passed up this chance. She deserves some kinda rest."

"I guess you're right." Cloud was chewing on his lip indecisively.

"If you wish to stay with her I would willingly go in your place and tail ShinRa, but you shouldn't waste any more time Cloud." Vincent insisted, lifting Tifa into his arms, turning his body towards the direction of the stairs.

"She trusts you. And so I trust you. I'll stay only until the doctor arrives."

"Thank you. I suggest you finish all preparations in that time; send Yuffie on an errand or something, she's starting to annoy Cid."

Cloud chuckled, taking Vincent by surprise. "Now I see why she likes you so much."

Vincent mulled over this information in silence, as Cloud called for the doctor. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.

***

"I think you were right, mr Valentine, she is showing an acute case of hypothermia-- good job you noticed." The doctor pocketed his stethoscope, rubbing the back of his neck as he bent to pick up his leather bag. "Just keep her warm, and rested, hydrated, and fed. "

"Thanks for doing this Vincent," Cloud muttered, once the doctor had left the small room they had moved Tifa to in the inn. "I'm not sure I'd be able to save her, if it came to it…"

"This isn't about Tifa, is it?"

Cloud raised his head, a gentle frown adorning his brow. "I'm just scared of failing her. Like I failed Aeris. Though I guess you know how that feels?"

Vincent cleared his throat. Tifa must have mentioned Lucrecia to him. "All too clearly."

"Tifa mentioned that when you… transform, you get really… hot?" Cloud struggled to articulate his point.

Of course, the last time he had transformed, he'd woken to find his chest throbbing with pain. Buttons had pinged off from his shirt as he had pulled the fabric aside, hurrying to tend to the wound, which was currently gushing hot blood down his torso. Tifa had reached him first, heal materia in hand. Her fingers had gently pried his hands away, withdrawing with a startled gasp. She had found his skin to be blisteringly hot.

"I don't pretend to know how it works, but if you could… heat yourself up, you may be able to keep her warm." He cast a glance towards the large bed Tifa was currently sleeping restlessly in.

Vincent's brows shot upwards. "I'm sorry?"

"Just a suggestion." Cloud shrugged. "Well contact you at 12 noon each day to update you. Thanks again for doing this."

Before Vincent could think of anything to say, the door was closed, the only sounds left in the room being the crackle of the fire, and Tifa's shallow breathing.

Keep her warm? He chuckled despite himself, loosening his shirt collar. If he didn't think he knew Cloud so well, he's accuse him of trying to set him up. But this was Tifa he was talking about. Her health was at stake. Fingertips to her forehead found her unnaturally cool, and a search for her hands resulted in a shocked gasp; she was freezing!

Hesitant to use Chaos as a means of warming her, he spent an hour or so finding extra blankets, fire wood and even a hot water bottle, though none of these things seemed to make any difference to her core body temperature; the doctor had left him a thermometer to check her sublingual temperature. If it were to drop below 34 degrees… Too many heavy sheets made his hard for her to move, or breathe, and he was fast running out of other options.

_...I don't pretend to know how it works, but if you could… heat yourself up, you may be able to keep her warm…_

The golden key was suddenly heavier, cool against his skin, hung from its chain. He _could_ use it, though he was afraid to. He didn't trust whatever it was-- why should he risk her again? But he hadn't hurt her last time, nor any of the other handful of times he'd had to use his 'power' along the way. In fact, he seemed to have some sort of primitive control over it, in a subconscious manner. No one spoke of it, but whenever he awakened from his temporal unconsciousness after each lapse into his other form, Tifa was always by him, ready to heal, help him to his feet. Perhaps he showed a certain… preference when he was unaware of it.

Sighing heavily, he gripped it between hesitant fingers. Practice had taught him control over his… ability, though he found himself wondering how long it would take him to change back to his natural form. Gritting his teeth, he decided he'd find out sooner or later…

… and called forth Chaos

***

All she knew was fire. Burning, all consuming flames that thawed from the inside. It was cleansing, awakening, invigorating. Every neurone in her body sighed from the stimulation, or at least, only those which seemed to be making contact with this magical heat. Her sleep-clouded mind tried to make sense of it. Her confusion pulled her from her fitful slumber.

Her fingertips discovered blistering skin, though as if it were a drug she went back for more, exploring, testing. Her eyes adjusted slowly, aware that the room she was in was dark, though there was a faint dancing amber luminescence on the ceiling above the bed in which she lay. Her body was restricted by the heavy weight of many blankets, and she felt the steady rise and fall of movements of… _something_ beside her. She could barely move her head, though she could smell the essence of someone familiar; gunpowder, slightly metallic, a clean musky scent. _Vincent_.

Her arm was draped across his bare, contoured chest, their legs intertwined, and her head was tucked beneath his chin. _Hell_, was this a dream? The last thing she remembered was the lobby of some inn, how her bones and muscles screamed, ached from a biting cold, then nothing.

And now this.

His skin was radiating heat beyond anything she could comprehend, though it came as no shock to her. At first, she thought it had been the blood that was hot, though she'd almost cried out at how hot his skin felt, immediately after he had shifted back from Chaos.

So, he'd recently transformed?

But why? And why was he here, of all places? She didn't think he would be the type to readily crawl into bed half naked with her. Though she thought he must've had a good reason, and no other option. But why _Vincent_? Sure, Cloud wouldn't have been the first person to jump into bed with her, no matter the premise-- couldn't Yuffie have done it, to save someone possible embarrassment?

Unless… He'd volunteered? She felt blood rush to her cheeks. She was looking too far into this. There was obviously a good explanation for this-- it was necessary. Necessary.

She repeated it a few more times.

***

Vincent was hyper aware of her body, her skin so cool against him, her scent filling his nose regardless of how he tried to alter his position. She was breathing lightly, with each exhale her warm breath brushing gently over his collar bones, bringing unwanted goosebumps to his skin. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea…

But then sleep took him, deep, unbroken sleep, and he was ill prepared for the dream that awaited him there.

How could he have allowed this to happen?

She must have already been awake when he came to, a yearning pull in his groin that couldn't have occurred at a more precarious time.

"Vincent?" She tentatively called his name, her lips perhaps a little too close to his ear; not that she could move much.

His shoulders trembled, his eyes opening, darting around him, before resting them on her face.

"Tifa-- you're awake." He shifted away from her instantly, swallowing a lump in his throat, moving the layers of blankets aside with some effort. She felt the absence of his body heat instantly. "Excuse me a moment, please." She struggled to seat herself upright, watching him cross the room with bleary eyes, running her fingers weakly through her hair.

Vincent slammed the bathroom door carelessly and a little too forcefully, so it bounced off the catch-- he didn't notice, instead setting the cold tap gushing into the sink and cupping handful after handful of water, bringing it to his heated face. Breathing erratic, arms braced against the sink, he shut off the tap, staring at his gleaming face in the mirror above it.

God, it had been a long time since he'd dreamt like that. So real, and she'd tasted exactly how he imagined she would… not that he should have been thinking about it, mind.

"Vincent?" Her reflection came into focus abruptly, and he jolted his body around to face her, painfully aware of his shirtlessness, and how the nightshirt she wore showed off her exquisite legs, and one graceful shoulder. "Is everything ok? What am I doing here?"

"You had hypothermia." He responded, his tongue suddenly too big and clumsy for his mouth. "I told Cloud to follow ShinRa into the mountains."

"_You_ did?" She'd jumped to the conclusion he'd dreaded she would make.

"There are to be snow storms for a few more days. Visibility is… I would have been useless." He finished lamely. "But that aside, you should go back to bed."

"Why are you so… _warm_?" She'd crossed the space between them, her feet tentatively traversing the cold tiles, pressing her palm to his chest. He sucked in a breath, holding it for a few seconds, releasing it slowly, so she wouldn't notice his heart rate hitting the roof.

"Actually, Cloud suggested I should use my… ability to… warm you up."

She raised an eyebrow. "_Cloud_?"

"Yes." He said, in a way that conveyed the surprise they evidently shared. "Look, you should get back into bed. Now you're away I can check your temperature and… get you something to eat."

She removed her hand, turning her attention to her reflection. She scowled at her tousled hair and pale complexion, though Vincent saw neither as displeasing. Though he wished she hadn't chosen that moment as he was watching her, to stand on her tip toes, so her nightdress rode up ever so slightly. He'd had enough of thighs and… exposed skin for now.

"Now." He ordered, pleased she obeyed without a backward glance. So his state of mind had gone unnoticed, at least.

Once fully dressed and suitably sobered, he stuck the thermometer under her tongue, ensure the blankets were tucked right up to her neck, before he exited the room to find her something hot to eat. Relieved to be free of that stifling room, he took his time selecting something for both Tifa and himself, enjoying his moments of freedom.

He'd gotten himself into hot water before now, but getting into bed with someone and acting as a hot water bottle was something entirely different. He wouldn't write it off, though he'd had his share of bed sharing. How she hadn't discovered that he'd had the most insistent…

Tomato soup it was.

***


	5. Breakthroughs

Sorry, it seems to have been a while since an update, I've been chewing my lip about it for a while. Anyway, here it is, and I hope you enjoy it!

Don't just add to favourites, I know LOTS of people have been doing _that_. It's not very productive-- you enjoy / don't enjoy reading them, let me know.

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5. Breakthroughs

Cloud squinted from his vantage point on the crest of yet another snow-caked hill. The snow was coming down thick and fast; Vincent had been right to stay behind. He was aware of Tifa's absence; she wasn't there to encourage him, to be positive. He'd just have to manage without her, this time.

"See anything?" Cid grunted, huffing to a stop at his side. "Fuckin' should never have started smokin'."

"Nothing. But I can see a small shack in the distance, at the foot of the mountain."

"Now you're gunna tell me we're climbing that piece of shit rock aren't ya?"

"Yes." He glanced at his wrist watch. "I should call Vincent, it's just gone noon."

"Ask him to put a log on the fire for me, would ya? And if you hear gigglin', put the fuckin' phone down."

***

Tifa was neck deep in hot water when she heard Vincent's PHS ringing shrilly from in the bedroom. It took him a few seconds to answer it, she noticed with a chuckle.

"Vincent here."

"_Hey, just to let you know we've almost reached the foot of the North Crater. Is Tifa alright?"_ Vincent could hear the wind whistling in the background, and the sound of Cid cursing. Probably trying to light a cigarette.

"She's awake, and eating. I think we should be able to hurry to meet you shortly."

"_Can I talk to her?"_

"She's in the bath, I think. I can get her to call you back, if you want?"

There was a distinct pause. "_Um, no, not unless she wants to… Look, let me know when you're on your way. Visibility is pretty poor, so, I wouldn't recommend rushing just yet."_

"Copy that." Copy that? Military jargon, really? "I'll update you on our ETA." He almost snorted at his urge to add, _over and out_ at the end.

"You sound so serious on the phone, do you know?" Tifa emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and fresh faced, her hair damp around her shoulders. She settled herself before the fire with a comb in hand, and set about teasing in through the tangles.

"I hate using this," He gave the black device in his hand a disgusted frown before tossing it onto the dresser. "I'm used to ear pieces, but I just… never mind." She was laughing at him, and he suddenly felt old.

"How do you think Barrett feels? The most sophisticated thing he can use is a grenade, and that's only with help from his teeth. You should see him trying to answer his PHS." She did a crude mime of him, with his big clumsy arms, fiddling with something tiny with one hand, and a fist. "I shouldn't laugh about it really, but… He rips the shit out of me whenever he can."

"How do you two know each other? He isn't someone I would automatically associate with someone like you."

"What do you mean, someone like me?" She was staring at him, comb still in her hand.

"Well," He cleared his throat. "You're not… as rough looking as he is."

She was laughing again, delicate shoulders trembling. "Rough? Oh, I'll tell him you said that."

"Great."

***

"I can't believe this! This is so awesome!" She was almost jumping up and down with excitement, and he was forced to smile at her.

She'd made a full recovery, and so Vincent felt they should start to follow Cloud and the others. From his latest call updating him, Cloud had said the party of ShinRa consisted of a handful of Turks, President Rufus, and Hojo. Vincent didn't want to pass up this opportunity to inflict a little damage on that weasel of a man. Oh, where should he start…

Suitable clothing to keep out the cold was top of his priority list; he didn't want Tifa to fall ill again. They bought pale grey snow suits, and Vincent decided the fastest way to get down the slopes was by skiing. A prospect which seemed to excite his companion.

So, fully kitted up and prepared, faces barely visible behind goggles, mufflers and scarves, they stood at the peak of the slope they were to descend. Tifa seemed to be competent on her skis at least; they should make fast work in catching up with their party.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah! I always wanted to do this-- thank you!" She was smiling, her cheeks glowing, and he felt a secret swell of pleasure within his chest.

"Then let's go and get those bastard ShinRa."

***

Exhilarated, she slid to a halt at last, having reached a flat point on their descent. The pine trees were coming thicker now, and their path more dangerous.

Vincent glanced at his compass, placing his goggles on his forehead momentarily. "We've got to head more west then I had thought. We are making good time."

"You're a pretty cool guy, Vincent, you know?" She grinned at his from behind her hood. "You're an ex-spy, you've got a killer sense of humour under your stern exterior, and you can fucking _ski_!"

Cool? Well, that wasn't an adjective he had ever heard used in conjunction with his name. "Thank you."

"What else can you do?" She probed, as they set off down the next slope at a slower pace, due to the less steep decline.

"What would you like me to say?"

"Hm, well if you said you were a trained masseuse, and a competent cook, I may have to marry you." Her laughter was a wonderful sound to behold; he couldn't remember ever seeing her like this in the short time he'd known her.

"Well, I'm not trained sadly, nor am I adept in the kitchen." He chuckled. "I'm not too shabby at chess, though. and I wouldn't say I could hold a candle to you, but I am trained in intermediate self-defence. Plus I play piano a little."

"We'll have to test that out sometime. I don't know why you've given me this gun-- I'd be more likely to shoot you!" Due to the restrictions her snow suit placed on her mobility, he'd armed her with a spare pistol he'd managed to acquire, and acquainted her with the basics, but hopefully, they wouldn't need to rely on them. "Hey, Is that the tavern?"

Vincent squinted-- sure enough, in the distance, he could make out a faint smudge of brown against the perfect white before them. "We've made excellent time in fact. I hadn't counted on you catching on so quickly."

"It's because I had an excellent teacher." He felt his face flush at the fondness in her tone.

"We'd better hurry-- the light is failing. If we can reach the tavern before nightfall, we can go into the crater with the others tomorrow." He swallowed down the turbulent surge of emotions; his apprehension, his hunger for revenge-- they would have to wait for now.

He didn't try as hard as he could have in quashing his reluctance to rejoin the others. He'd liked having time alone with Tifa. Perhaps a little too much. He'd have to think carefully, in future. Getting attached, when they were on such a precarious mission wouldn't necessarily be the best idea.

***

The tavern was warm on their arrival, and they were greeted with equal climate. Cid was incredulous they'd actually skied all the way here, and in so little time. Barrett muttered something about ex-Turks, though his normally gruff expression was gone, replaced instead by a fond smile. In that instance, Vincent realised how important Tifa was to everyone; she was their support, their driving force, and she was the voice of reason, the first to offer solace and care. He could tell they'd missed that.

And he realised how important she was to Cloud, with a sudden lump in his throat. Cloud may not love her in the conventional sense, though he cared for her a great deal; he'd tried not to pay attention when he'd embraced her, bombarded her with questions about her health. She'd waved them all away, attributed her quick recovery to Vincent's care, though he couldn't ignore the pain she masked in her voice.

She loved Cloud. In the conventional sense. But she knew she couldn't ever tell him. To do so would only increase his guilt-- because he could never love her back. So she kept it locked away.

If only he could have been as strong as Tifa, once. Maybe then, he would never have gotten himself into such a mess. Perhaps then, Lucrecia would never have known. Perhaps the baby would never have been born, assuming it were his child. Then Tifa's father would have been alive, her hometown still standing. And he would never have been awakened by her, in that freezing cold basement, wondering why he deserved this second chance.

"You're brooding." He jumped a little, turning to face the smaller woman at his side. The storm raged on the other side of the window; he'd been watching the flakes drift by for some time with unfocused eyes, oblivious to everything around him.

"Sorry, I don't realise I'm doing it sometimes." He rubbed at his eyes, itching from the dry warmth of the cabin.

"I've noticed you're always like this whenever other people are around. Whenever it's not just… you and I." She flushed a little, though her stare was steady. She was indulging in her habit of chewing at her lip; a habit she reverted to when she felt uneasy, or nervous, he'd observed.

"I suppose I'm not comfortable with… everyone. I get the impression they are indifferent of me."

"Exactly-- indifferent. It doesn't mean they dislike you. In fact, I'm sure they respect you, after all the times you seem to have saved my life since I found you."

"And I would gladly do it for you again." He said softly, watching the play of firelight on her long auburn hair. "We all would. Everyone around you loves you. I've noticed that about you-- there's not really a lot to dislike. But me-- I'm a probably-not-even-fully-human ex-Turk, who could have fathered the greatest threat to existence the world has ever known. What is there to like?"

To his surprise, she laughed. "You know what I like about you."

"Aside from Skiing… and being an ex-spy?" The corner of his mouth twitched, but he maintained his semblance of solemnity.

"You pretty sensitive, despite what you let on. You're smart, you make me laugh, and you're… a good friend to me. I know we haven't know each other for long but… I feel we will continue our friendship for years to come. Or at least, I hope so."

"Oh." Was all he could manage, taken aback by her sudden display of raw honesty.

"Come and sit with us, Vincent. You're a member of our team, you know."

"As you wish," He conceded with a sigh, joining her and the rest of Avalanche by the fireside.

***

Vincent had excused himself to bed an hour or so ago, and the rest of the group had followed, leaving only Tifa and Cloud by the fire. Red was also there, though he was sleeping soundly. She stared into the depths of the flames, toying aimlessly with a lock of her hair. Such a strange night she'd had-- she'd been determined to enjoy herself, to relax-- who knew what awaited them in the crater, what hellish activity they would find ShinRa engaged in. She didn't want to have to think about it right now.

A while ago, she'd taken on the mission with a sort of grim determination; she was going to get it done, because she was angry, she wanted answers, revenge, blood, whatever. But now… certain events had altered her perspective, so to speak.

Aeris's death had shook them all to the core, though she would say it hit Cloud the hardest. Still, at night she would dream. The ancient's beautiful, flawless face was so close to hers, her smile so familiar, and she would whisper words of comfort to her, words of encouragement. She would wake sweating, and determined; Aeris was watching over them now, her light and her magic guiding their path. She couldn't fail, she had to do this for Aeris, for herself.

Then she had met Vincent. They shared a connection-- even _she_ couldn't deny that any longer, though she would to Yuffie, or to Cid. Vincent understood her. She could attribute some of his experiences to her own, in a way, and in turn, she had learnt to understand him. He may be quiet, reflective, even broody at times, though it was never without good reason. She had to learn to have as much patience with Cloud, as she seemed to already possess for Vincent.

Cloud was an old friend, an old crush, and though she tried to deny it, she loved him. Fruitlessly, and pointlessly, but she did. He must have known it, but to acknowledge it now would mean hurting her. He couldn't love her. It would be disrespectful to Tifa, to repay her affections only half heartedly. She was his friend, and he loved her platonically. She needed to accept that, and grow from it.

"Earth to Tifa?" Cloud was prodding her in the shoulder, seating himself beside her on the rug before the fire. "You seem to be lost in thought. Anything wrong?"

"No, no." She lied hastily, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I was just thinking about tomorrow. about what we might find. I feel so powerless sometimes-- I'm just a 20 year old trying to save the world, messing with things I don't really understand. The black materia-- you know how dangerous that is-- how could we hope to stop it? Sephiroth is too powerful, if he wants it, he'll get it. I just… feel like taking on a massive co-operation and a… a super being at once is… suicide."

"You're right, I know that…" He ran his hands through his hair, and at that moment she noticed just how _tired_ he looked. "But we can't just do nothing. Not after… after the sacrifice Aeris made for us…"

"I know." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She didn't know where to look, if ever he spoke of Aeris. She wasn't sure how to behave, or how he expected her to. His fingers found hers, and she felt a flip in her stomach as he held her hand tightly in his. "You know how much you mean to me, don't you, Tifa?" Her amber eyes found his ice blue ones, and all over again she felt overwhelmed by their depth. No one should have to suffer so much, like he had.

"Yes." She murmured, unable to stop the tears falling down her cheeks.

"I'm just sorry that it can't be… the way you want it to be. I love you, I really do. But you're a sister to me. I wouldn't survive without you."

"Just… give me some time. I'll… I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry, it's selfish of me."

"No, no." She wiped the damp from her face with the heel of her hand, her voice thick. "I'm the selfish one. I expect you to feel the same when… I never… Look, forget it. Everything will be alright in the end."

"I wish I could believe you." He sighed, staring out of the window towards where the looming shadow of the north crater blocked out the stars. "I really do."

***

The climb was arduous, though Vincent found his forearms didn't seem to be complaining as much as he'd anticipated; his arms had had to carry more than his own weight once or twice since his awakening. Tifa seemed a little subdued, but he hadn't found a spare moment to question her; Cloud had been anxious to press on, to make it to the top before noon.

So he'd grit his teeth and set to it; he'd scaled buildings before now, and a mountain proved to me much simpler-- more things to grip, more leverage. He was able to pick out the safest routes, even under the cover of snow-- that was till they broke the clouds. It truly was a strange place, he thought. Mists swirled around them, making it impossible to see, and that had almost halted progress, were it not for Tifa's quick thinking; using Fire materia to warm the air before them, so they could find a safe passage across the treacherous field of spiny rocks that seemed intent on sending them to a painful fall.

It had seemed hours since midday; since the last time he'd been able to see anything outside the small amber bubble of light they were maintaining, until suddenly the mists were gone, and they found themselves stood before the mouth of a colossal cave, it's entrance framed by magnificent icicles.

They didn't utter a word, their breath rising in a mist before their faces as they made their way through the cold and the gloom to the other side. He didn't particularly like caves; something to do with their similarity to a certain cold dark place he'd spend so much time in previously, though at the sound of rushing winds ahead, he wasn't so eager to leave the shelter. This side of the mountain was exposed to the elements, battered relentlessly by powerful winds. They braved it, arms raised before their faces, bodies bowed low into the wind to give it less purchase. His chest was starting to ache from the amount of time he'd been holding his breath.

Then as sudden as the mists had gone, so was the wind. The silence was eerie. it was as though they'd entered into a bubble, and the winds had never existed, though his ears still hurt from the cold. They'd passed into an areas of open space protected by two sheer rock faces on either side. Vincent was the first to notice the fresh footsteps in a snowdrift that had somehow remained here. So they were not so far behind them. His heart rate dropped as he tightened his fist.

"Cloud…" Tifa spoke, the first to do so in a long time; he'd almost forgotten what her voice sounded like. Her cheeks were drained of colour, her arm raised, pointing at something ahead of them. "Jenova…"

"I hope you're not being serious."

***

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Hope you liked it, please review!


	6. Marionette

RESUBMISSION: Right, I know it was rushed, so I edited some stuff, and added in an extra part. Hopefully this is better. I'm trying to get all the angsty Cloud shit out of the way, you see?

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6. Marionette

Vincent was sweating like never before. For a creature so large, and without legs, it moved pretty damn fast. He'd managed to take out what he imagined were its eyes after several attempts, running circles around it until it hadn't known where to look, until Tifa had been able to land some pretty impressive punches, a volley or two of kicks, somersaults, and Cloud's sword had never sunk so deep; his blade had danced, flashing in ethereal light in and out of the thing, until the steel had glinted red with its blood. Barrett's gun arm had sunk too many bullets into Jenova for Vincent to count, until it had simply fallen to the ground with a sickening squelch of alien flesh onto rock. It disintegrated into ash before them.

"Are you hurt?" Her gentle hand was at his shoulder, though he shook his head. No wounds this time. "Good."

"We've got it. The black materia…" Cloud was staring at the unusual black orb clutched in his gloved hand. It was the most unnatural looking object Vincent had ever seen- it seemed to be _nothing_-- like looking into empty space. It had substance, but he wasn't filled with any desire to know anything else about it. It was evil, and he couldn't explain his urge to just snatch it from Cloud's hand and hurl it into the nearest chasm.

"Maybe you shouldn't take it with you, you should leave it with someone else." She was begging him, as though she too shared Vincent's irrational fear of it. He'd agreed, and given the object to Barrett. Now all that was left to do, was to decide who would stay, and who would go and confront ShinRa.

"If Hojo is there… I would like to go." Vincent found himself saying, averting his face under the other's scrutiny. He'd never expressed a desire to do anything before now.

"Alright. Tifa, Vincent you're with me. Everyone else, make sure the Materia stays safe." Vincent noticed that Tifa gave Yuffie a dark look. He'd have to ask about _that_ later. But for now, he had one person on his mind.

"What're you going to do?" She asked quietly from his right, her footsteps falling into sync with his.

"I… I haven't decided yet. But I plan on taking my time with it. I'm dragging him with me by his scrawny throat if I have to. he's not getting away this time." Vincent's hands had curled into fists without his realising it. His rumbling rage abated at the touch of her fingertips at his wrist.

"I don't care what you do but… Please remember what's important here. If he gets away I promise I'll help you to hunt him down. But we need to know why Sephiroth wanted to get here so badly."

"Of course."

They trudged on in silence for a while longer, ears strained for the sounds of others ahead of them. Vincent was the first to pick them out; he could hear several males, and one high pitched female. Among them, he could still pick out his voice; it had changed with age, though there was that background whine, that screech to his voice that made Vincent sick to the stomach.

And the sight of him wasn't much better.

Tifa stood at his side, almost a buffer, keeping him stable. _Remember what's important._ He didn't recognise the blonde in the knee length white jacket, though Cloud regarded him with contempt. Tifa whispered that it was the new president, Rufus. Hmph. Same shit different day. Or rather, different leader.

All around them were walls of stone, carved into elaborate and terrible designs of ancient faces of monsters. Vincent assumed that before the ignorant humans had wiped out the Cetra, they had perhaps colonised these areas, beyond the walls of the Forgotten City. The clearing which they were standing in was bathed in an ethereal, blue-white luminance, the light interrupted into patterns on the ground by the roots of a huge, ancient tree.

Hojo stood beside the president, his eyes going wide behind his glasses at the sight of Vincent. Clearly, he hadn't expected him to be here. He felt a twang of satisfaction. Not so brave in your old age? A woman was stood to the President's other side, clearly making a show of putting as much distance between herself, and the Scientist. She was dressed rather impractically for the occasion; a rather stunning red dress which revealed fantastic legs and a full chest, her platinum hair bound loosely at her neck. Her teeth were white, sparkling against crimson lips, tapping her foot impatiently, precarious heels a testament to her balance.

Tifa frowned in disapproval. He found himself glad Tifa hadn't noticed his examination.

"You're stupider than you look, Cloud." She said, her voice low and seductive. Vincent raised a brow. "But seeing as you've put so much effort in to getting here, we may as well harbour you're company for a little while." Her cackling laugh came shortly after she'd finished speaking, and any interest he may have harboured for her disintegrated. He felt his facial muscles contort into a cringe-- What an awful sound!

"Enough, Scarlet." The president spoke harshly, and with little patience for his… whatever she was. "Why we are here is irrelevant. Why you are here, still evades me."

"We're here to stop you." Cloud stated, almost unnecessarily, and Scarlet snorted. Vincent was alert throughout the pointless exchange of words, scanning their surroundings, finding any possible vantage points, routes of escape. There were none to speak of. Though he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else among them, another presence, ever watchful, and silent.

"Cloud… Sephiroth is… He is…" Tifa swallowed her failed attempt to speak, pointing skyward instead. Vincent followed her arm, and what he saw turned his stomach to ice.

The form of a naked male with swaths of silver hair was suspended in a strange silver orb, in the centre of a hollow in the tree's roots, a hundred feet above their heads. So, that was Lucrecia's son. The product of the union of two, polluted by the cells of Jenova. _This_, that man, was what she had been so desperate to create?

_Our purpose is to carry the black materia to our master. Those who carry Jenova's cells…_

Cloud's hands clamped over his ears, as if trying to block out a sound no-one else could hear, his face contorted in pain. Tifa wore an expression that said she was used to this behaviour, but it couldn't have come at a worse time. _Damn it, Cloud, hold it together. _Vincent kept Cloud in his peripheral vision, worry gnawing away at his insides. Why had they come here? Was it such a good idea to take on Sephiroth now, if he were at all to awaken?

Now Hojo was laughing, a dry wheeze. "It seems you were not such a failure after all, puppet."

"Shut the _Fuck_ up Hojo before I break your face." Tifa spat, her hands curling into tight fists.

"I'd watch your step if I were you, dear." Scarlet's gaze was blistering, but Tifa didn't falter.

"Same goes for you." Tifa's voice was a deadly whisper, and he heard her knuckles crack in her leather gloves. Vincent suppressed the urge to smirk, drawing his firearm and aiming square between the president's eyes.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Barret was suddenly there, shouting behind them, but Vincent kept his aim steady. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. Barret had been told to stay behind. With the Materia.

To keep it safe.

"Barret! I thought you were supposed to stay behind!" Tifa's face had drained of its colour, turning her attention away from Cloud, who had now straightened up, his face impassive and steady. An eerie silence descended around Tifa, and Vincent was forced to tear his eyes away from his target, as he could no longer pick out her voice. Tifa was screaming silently, her lips moving with no sound, tears of frustration starting to pour down her face.

Cloud spoke. "Is the materia safe?"

"Yeah, I got it here!"

_--Cloud! _She screamed, but Barret and Cloud did not turn, nor gave any sign they had registered her cry.

"You'd better give it to me. The black materia…" His mako blue eyes seemed to glow eerily.

"Um, Whatever…"

_-- Barret no! Stop, he's not--_

But it was too late.

Cloud floated into the air, a marionette on invisible strings, drifting towards the husk which encased Sephiroth's form, the Black Materia clutched loosely in his manipulated fingers. No matter how they tried to shout, call him back from wherever he had gone, Cloud would not hear them. The black materia was once more in the wrong hands. Or perhaps they always had been… He thrust an arm into the gel encasing Sephiroth's form, and the Materia was no longer in sight. There was distinct lull, before a low, reverberating rumble could be heard, echoing around them in the clearing.

A yellow eye, awakened from eons of slumber, pierced the gloom, almost the height of a man, and several times as wide. Then, Vincent was sure they had to get out.

The entire place was crumbling around them, ancient stones dislodged and sent tumbling over into the clearing. Vincent felt the ground beneath his boots vibrate. The aged wood above him splintered with an ear-splitting crack, showering them with debris collected over centuries. Vincent's body was screaming for him to run to safety, but Tifa was resisting all attempts for Barret to drag her away from Cloud, who was nowhere to be seen. Vincent swore loudly as the blurred shapes of the Hojo and Scarlet rushed past, to return to their vessel. _Damnit, Hojo_.

"You'd better come with us," The president yelled over the din.

"Fuck you, ShinRa." Barret was screaming, his voice barely audible over Tifa's screams.

"Get everyone out! I'll take care of this!" Vincent gripped Tifa's wrists tightly in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Tifa! Remember what you said to me!-- stay focussed on what's important." Her face was devoid of any expression, the chaos around them reflected in her tear-filled eyes. "We need to survive this."

She nodded, before taking his hand, and running for her life, leaving her heart, her hopes and her dreams behind in the clearing, along with Cloud.

***

The room into which Vincent had been thrown rather unceremoniously, was dark and windowless, filled with boxes and steel crates, which slid from one side of the room to the other with the violent movements of the freighter. They bashed him relentlessly, bruising his body. but he didn't care.

Things were looking bad. Something had come out of the crater. Something big, and something old, and whatever it was, was trying to destroy them. Scarlet had called it Weapon. Against what exactly, he did not know. But it wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

He twitched his wrists in the their restraints, growling in frustration. What he'd do for a gun right now… Tifa and the rest of Avalanche were somewhere on the airship, but he'd been tossed into an empty room and locked in. Probably because he was considered to be the most dangerous. Because Hojo knew exactly what he was capable of. But mostly, more important to Vincent, he was afraid.

Slumping against the wall, he gave in exerting himself, resting his forehead on his knees. He was no good to Tifa or the others down here. And who knew what had happened to Cloud, and what it was doing to Tifa… She'd been so distraught, so fixed on staying, he was surprised his words had had any impact on her at all.

Remember what's important? What was important anymore?

Tifa… He hoped she was safe.

***

Barret was allowed to stay with her, in case she woke, though an armed guard was stationed just outside the room. If he tried anything, she would get shot. And he didn't want to risk that. She had fallen on the upper decks when Weapon had taken off, and cracked her head pretty hard. No Vincent to catch her this time, but he couldn't exactly blame him. He was currently fighting rather viscously with several guards to try and get to Hojo, who was avoiding him rather keenly.

He wasn't handcuffed-- they couldn't find any large enough to go around his wrists, though the threat of harm to Tifa kept him in line, his temper in check. Oh, what he'd do to them, once they got free of this shit…

Goddamn, Cloud. Some serious shit was going down, and he wasn't the best person to try to figure it all out. He was the brawn, the brute force. He wasn't cut out for military operations and sophisticated planning. Shit, that's what he had people like Tifa around for. Next to Marlene, she was as good as his daughter. He'd seen her grow in confidence from the day he'd rescued her from the slums and taken her in, and when Cloud showed up… she'd just fallen back into being that uncertain, shy girl she had once been. He hadn't carried much regard for Cloud for that reason. But after Aeris… she'd gotten her spine back.

Losing him again was sure to fuck her up for good.

Damn it Cloud! He was so sure everything was going to turn out alright, with that blonde spiky-assed Ex-soldier who carried himself so well, who seemed to know everything. But recently, that know-it-all aura had gone. Perhaps into the lake, along Aeris.

He drove his fist into the floor, turning his face away from the fiery light filtering through the blinds, that had nothing to do with the sun. Never in his life would he have expected to face something like this.

The end of the world was coming for good this time, and he had a feeling that no amount of explosives and handmade bombs could stop it.

***

She dreamt of Nibel, as she often did. The searing heat thawed her body through to the core, the scent of burning wood and ash filling her nose, the sound of splintering beams and crackling sparks reached her ears. But she couldn't see anything. Not a thing.

Her world was black, devoid of colour and light. The flames burned her, and no-one was there to pull her free. She suffered alone, flesh stripped from bone by the deadly fire, the raw heat. She called out for help, listing names of all the people she'd known, realised with each name that they were already gone, had perished in the fire. She was alone, the only one left…

Cloud... he couldn't be her hero anymore. He was a husk, able to be controlled by Sephiroth's will. And it would lead to their destruction. She'd have to do it without him, as she'd always thought, but never wanted to admit.

Emerging from her concussion-induced slumber, she felt as though her head had been cleaved open by an axe. White spots flared up behind her eyelids, pain pulsed with each throb of her pulse, and her tongue felt too large and dry in her mouth. She needed water. Opening her eyes, arm thrown over her face to block out the harsh light of an examination lamp suspended over her, she tried to make sense of where she was. That airship…

"Barret?" She'd felt his presence, a familiar heavy step, weighted by many burdens.

"Tifa, glad you're awake." He coughed uncomfortably. "Shit's really hit the fan. Like, really."

"Cloud is… he is in the crater. Dead or alive, I don't know." She processed her words carefully, trying to sit upright using muscles left dormant for too long. Barret's huge palm was a support at her back. "We have to… carry on without him."

"I know." He said nothing more for a moment, seeming to battle with himself internally. He'd never been good at hiding things from her though, and she was particularly skilled at reading people.

"Barret, what is it?" His heavy shoulders slumped downwards, eyebrows knitted into a frown.

"We're on a ShinRa ship, and they're gunna take up to Junon an'… I think they're gunna execute us. Publically." He heaved a sigh, running his flesh hand over his stubble. "But tha's not the proverbial shit, Tifa. Not even fuckin' close." He marched over to the far wall, where she could make out the slats of blinds, drawn tightly shut. It could be midday for all she knew. How long had she been out?

Barret seemed to hesitate a moment, before punching the button which would open the blinds. She shielded her eyes against the sudden glare of red light, unable to adjust yet. Red light? Sunset, or sunrise?

"This is what Sephiroth wanted, I guess. To wound the planet…"

She slid from the exam table-cum-bed she'd been seated on, only to have her knees give way beneath her. A meteor, larger than anything she had ever seen in her life dominated the skyline; glowing like a burning ruby amongst the clouds, it hung there, ominous, threatening, ever present. A time bomb to their destruction.

"Of course… The temple of the ancients… the hieroglyphs. It all makes sense now." She felt strangely calm; she had long since gotten used to the heavy stone that seemed to have settled there permanently, in her gut. "Aeris was… trying to stop it. And now she is… she is dead. And we never knew. We never fucking _knew_."

"I don' know if stoppin' Sephiroth is gunna be enough, now."

"It's worth a try." She laughed dryly, heaving herself to her feet, and dusting herself down. Her clothes were wrinkled, and smelled of her sweat. She wondered vaguely where her pack was. "Where is everyone else?"

"Yuffie is up on deck blowin' chunks into the wind, Cid is prolly fuckin' about with the engines, and Vincent… I ain't seen 'im. Last time was when we boarded and that piece 'o shit Weapon sent us flyin'. He was tryin' ta get to Hojo I think, puttin' up a good fight. But he took a few punches. Prolly locked up somewhere."

"We need to find him. We need everyone we can get."

"Why, you gotta plan, Tif?" He wore a warm smile, the first she'd seen in a long while.

"I wish I did." She shook her head.

"This shit is really fuckin' bad."

"I know. But we have to find a way out of this mess. We've managed it before. We can do it again." She wished she could believe herself, but the lack of conviction in her voice was so notable, that she swallowed down an inappropriate burst of laughter.

The odds were gradually being stacked up against them day by day; A corrupt Weapon's and Energy Co-operation with elite military at their control, a superhuman who was biding his time, and a meteor the size of a continent. What was the point?

She was too young for this sort of crap-- she could imagine what most of the world was thinking; make the best out of the chaos, do what you've always wanted to do, before it's too late. She suddenly found herself listing some of those things; going to Cosmo College, starting a Martial Arts School, finding Zanghan, forgiving her mother for never being there, experiencing the warmth of another's kiss, of another's arms…

She shook herself. There would be time for some things. But not right now. Not right now.

It became a mantra to her as she tried to shrug off the weight of regret.

* * *

Bear with me.


	7. Execution

So, this is where it gets (or at least I think it does) really exciting! Go see for yourself, anyways.

* * *

7. Execution

When the door to Vincent's makeshift prison opened, he'd forgotten how dark it actually was; the usually dull grey electric lights from the hallways outside served to blind him momentarily.

"Vincent! What've they done to you?" Tifa's voice, angry and incredulous, and never more welcome to his ears, sounded from the doorway.

His face was covered in blood, or at least, dried blood, that had trickled from some head wound he had acquired in the struggle, but his binding forbade him to wipe it away. He hadn't had any food or water in the two days he'd been locked inside, and he could barely stand on his own.

"Absolutely nothing, for the past few days, I think. I lost track of time." His voice was hoarse, throat swollen and dry.

"Miss Lockheart, please, remember our agreement…" Another voice came from somewhere behind her, his eyes ill- adjusted to discern any shapes. The man was bald, and wearing a suit.

"Rude, can't you see he's hurt! It wouldn't do for ShinRa to be seen mistreating prisoners, would it?" Her small hand was warm in the crook of his elbow, supporting him. Her eyes were pleading with the other man, who seemed uncomfortable with the situation.

"He can stay in the exam room with you and Barret. I'll… I'll find some provisions." He nodded his head rigidly, before indicating for her to walk ahead of him, back down the narrow steel-walled gangway. He made a point of pointing a gun at their backs.

Vincent squinted in the amber light of the aforementioned examination room, noting that the door was flanked by armed guards, struggling to adjust to the changes in light intensity. He could make out the silhouette of a large man by the window, most likely Barret, and when his eyes adjusted, he noted the presences of Cid, and Red.

"Just like ol' times, huh?" Cid joked dryly, scowling as the bald man who had escorted them here turned and left, locking the door behind him. "This is turnin' inta one fuckin' picnic."

"Who was that?" Vincent muttered to Tifa, who was leant over him, inspecting his face. She'd made him sit on a steel table, so she could clean him up a little.

"It was Rude. He's a… a Turk." Her lips had thinned, and she pointedly said no more as she wiped at his lesions. He winced a little.

"Why was he helping you? What agreement did you make?"

She huffed a heavy breath. "Its… He, well, let's say he likes me." Her pale face was lit with a gently flush he didn't miss.

Barrett laughed mirthlessly, huge arms crossed across his chest. Vincent leant around Tifa to view him better. "He's got a bit of a soft spot for Tifa, to put it one way. She promised not ta kick his scrawny Turk ass too much next time they meet."

Vincent raised a brow, resulting in a wince due to the unfortunate placement of his abrasion. "Would you expect any less of me?" He hissed in pain, as she rather vehemently applied the alcohol rub. "Now keep still."

***

It took one more day's travelling for them to reach Junon. Tifa watched from the window, jaw clenched, as the metal ramparts and the colossal cannon stretching several hundred metres long came into view on the horizon, over the sea. The water glittered red, reflecting the meteor's angry glare.

She was at loss for what to do; if Cloud were here, he would probably make up a stupid, hap hazard plan that would somehow work, and get them out of this mess. She felt a tremor in her bottom lip, and bit down on it, unfocusing her eyes as tears swelled behind them, blurring her vision. Her knuckles were white, gripping the window sill.

"Hey." Vincent interrupted her quiet reflection, hands in his pockets, pointedly staring out of the window with her. She was thankful for that, taking a moment to make sure her cheeks were free of moisture. She should have known that trying to hide her tears would only urge them on, and they leaked from between her fingertips regardless of her efforts.

"I… I'm sorry!" She laughed a little, her voice thick as she tried to swallow back her sorrows, and put on a brave face.

"There is no need for apologies…" His skin glowed amber in the meteor's glow, ruby eyes shining brightly. He was frowning with worry, reaching a pale hand out, to touch her shoulder. His fingertips were cool, uncertain, then firm, comforting.

"I've just not had a moment to think that… that he's gone." She folded her arms across her abdomen, staring aimlessly at a point on the opposite wall. Vincent's hand was gripping tighter, an invite she had been wanting for longer than she cared to admit. His shirt was soft, crisp cotton in her clenched fingers, his scent filling her nose as she buried her face into his shoulder. His muscles relaxed into her, hands pressed flat against her back, gently rubbing circles there, soothing her erratic breathing into a more regular rhythm. She focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest against her body, his heart beating strong and calm against her open palm.

She was so small, folded against him, he thought to himself, resisting the urge to tangle his fingers in her long tresses. She smelled fresh, a hint of something floral, and he could detect the fragrance of apple in her hair. Her tears soaked through his shirt to his skin, but he didn't mind, instead standing silent and steady, supporting her when she needed it the most. He knew her well enough to deduce that she would try to be the brave one, the one who was intact, and headstrong. But she didn't have to be. Everyone had the right to be helpless, and needy once in a while. He wished he'd had the same luxury, at times.

"You can take all the time you want. No one is expecting you to do anything, Tifa." He soothed, fingertips gently plucking at strands of her hair, at the nape of her neck. She shivered a little, though she nestled a little closer into his arms.

"We don't have much time, though. ShinRa are going to tell the world that we are responsible for everything, and they are going to kill us publically. We are unarmed, defenceless, and broken. I see no way out of this." Her exhaled breath came out in a shudder, racking her shoulders.

"Neither do I. But there has to be…"

"You are talking of fate, right? We are fighting for what is good, and what is right, so we _must_ be able to succeed?" A wan smile had slipped onto her lips.

"It's what I'd like to think. But I think we all know it's not always true. But we have to survive. Because there's so much I have left to do."

She chuckled a little into his shirt, closing her eyes, and inhaling deeply. "I know that feeling. I'm too young for all this crap."

"Yuffie isn't even old enough to drink-- imagine that?" They both started laughing, and she took that moment to draw away from his arms, and his warmth, to wipe her face with her sleeve. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands, now they were no longer required to calm her. He settled with crossing his arms.

Yuffie herself had chosen that moment to walk into the room, looking pale, and sickly. "I can hear you, you know?" Tifa felt privately relieved she had not been caught. "Gawd, I don' care about dying, jus' so long as I can get off this fuckin' airship. I HATE flying." She complained, tossing herself into the nearest corner, arms wrapped around her knees. He watched her for a moment, noting her odd metal leg brace, her arm guard, useless except for ornament without her Shuriken.

"Yuffie…" Vincent was staring at her thoughtfully, eyes narrowed. "You are from Wutai, aren't you?" She managed a rigid nod. "And I heard you telling Cid, in your frequent arguments, that you are an accomplished Shinobi?" Again she nodded. Tifa's arms were folded across her chest, her foot tapping slowly as her mind worked to follow Vincent's train of thought.

"She's pretty devious, when she needs to be." Tifa agreed.

He was frowning again, chin resting in his fingers as he stared, unseeing, out over the ocean. "Well, I think I might have an idea."

Yuffie listened intently, nodding as he spoke, before she slipped out of the examination room, out of sight and knowledge. Vincent watched her go, biting on his lip as he did so.

"I feel as if I've condemned her, somehow."

Tifa stepped closer to him, her gentle hand finding his. "She's good at what she does. One of us will survive, at least."

"_'Be swift, silent, and never falter.'_"

Recognition dawned on her face at his words. "The code of the Assassin."

"It's pretty much universal." He chanced a glance to the window, noting how much closer they were getting to Junon, the ramparts glinting dully in the dying light of the sun. "This had better fucking work." It felt good to swear, after so many years of it being considered imprudent to do so. Tifa raised a brow.

***

When they had docked in Junon at last, there had been a flurry of activity. Armed guards arrived in hoards, too many to estimate, and their party were rather unceremoniously bundled off the ship. They had docked at the military launch pads, out of the way of the more public docking points, though there were still enough guards, engineers, and other personnel for Vincent to be hopeful Yuffie had gotten away, out of the confusion. That, along with the fact that Cait Sith had been taken into the military base, lifted a little load off his conscience.

All hopes he had were overshadowed however, when Scarlet showed up, heels clicking with each step. Tifa was handcuffed and silent at his side, before the blonde woman smiled bitterly, drew back her hand and issued a sharp slap to the side of her face. Tifa recovered herself in seconds, rotating her jaw slowly, eyes wide and furious.

"You are going to go first, sweetheart. Daniels, Frost--" two armed guards stepped forward, and saluted. "Take _this_ one to the gas chamber!"

Vincent watched in horror as Tifa was dragged away from the rest of their group, kicking and screaming, towards a side door in the military base, her eyes never leaving his face until they were separated by steel and bricks. A lead weight settled in his stomach.

Having found handcuffs large enough for Barret, ShinRa made sure they were all bound, before organising the rest of their fragmented group into a line and marching them into the building complex. From behind, he could hear Scarlet screaming at a stuttering commander.

"Where's that Wutaiin bitch? What you mean you _lost_ her? Find her!" Rather than her voice being of discomfort to him, Scarlet's screeching served to fill him with hope; at least Yuffie had not been discovered, in the chaos of disembarking. He only prayed she was somewhere in that base, and that she would know what to do.

Cid, Barret, along with Red and himself were transported to the holding cells for the time being, where a fat man in a horrific green felt suit, and sporting a strange, thick black beard, informed them they were here to await their turn in the execution chamber. He departed with a booming laugh that was akin in its' awfulness to Scarlet's.

"How're we gunna to get outta this?" Barrett swore under his breath, kicking the wall in frustration.

Vincent said nothing for a moment, watching the male prison guard exchange a few words with another, who had just arrived, engaging him in conversation. The guard was short, and their uniform seemed a little big, on inspection. As if they were wearing someone else's. The larger guard turned their back for a moment, to check the roster; apparently, he was supposed to be somewhere else-- but Scarlet had specifically said--

The smaller guard suddenly moved, hands gripped tightly at the side of the helmet before twisting quickly, firmly. A sickening crack, and the larger guard fell to the ground, dead, his neck broken.

"Yuffie… Excellent timing."

***

Her jaw ached where that whore's hand had made contact, though she didn't show any discomfort. If she weren't handcuffed, oh, Scarlet, what a mistake… But she _was_ handcuffed. Thoughts of vengeance which would have fuelled her on were quashed, as she was marched into a large room, filled with lines of metal chairs. The front five rows or so were filled by reporters, some bearing notepads, and only one or two with recording equipment. She kept her gaze steady, point forward, defiant. She couldn't pick out one voice out of the babble that had erupted upon her arrival.

"--Here we have founding Avalanche member, Tifa Lock--"

"--Bombed several locations in the capital, killing---"

"--is reportedly responsible for the meteor--"

"You're all blind!" She screamed. "ShinRa is covering up, they're the ones who created Sephiroth in the first place! You can't--" A firm hand clamped over her mouth, though a swift bite to the flesh soon had the owner withdrawing it immediately.

"--The man known as Sephiroth, who vanished on--"

"--Has been sighted across the continents--"

"--Does this woman deserve her fate? Should she have been given a trial for--"

The rabble of voices faded as she was dragged into a smaller room, windowless and cold, and forced into a hard leather seat. The man who she had bitten seemed to be having difficulties with her bindings, she noted with a satisfied smirk. Then she realised who it was. Rude…

"Rude, please don't do this!" She pleaded, as he finished fastening her right arm to the armrest. "It's crazy, it won't help anything--"

"Tifa, I'm sorry… I can't do anything." He swallowed, moving on to her left arm, busying himself with the leather buckles so he would not have to meet her eyes.

"Please…" Her voice failed her, her wrists desperately trying to twitch out of their bindings. He'd not done them so tight as to cause her pain, but not loose enough for her to escape. Not that she'd have anywhere to go.

"I'm sorry." He chewed his lip as he considered the ankle bindings. "Just… put your feet here and don't move." She did as he asked, tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn't expected this, there was no way they could have prepared for this, for her death. No-one could help her now, it was too late.

This was it.

Scarlet swept into the room, eyeing Tifa with disgust, no empathy in her bitter, beautiful face for the woman she had condemned to death. "The whole world is watching-- any last words?"

She took one last look at Scarlet, head of ShinRa Weapon's development, a face for everything she hated. "Go to hell."

That earned her another slap, though what good it did, she didn't really know. She was as good as dead anyway. "I'll just hit this button here, and this room will slowly start to fill with gas. Goodnight, sweetie." She blew her a kiss as she depressed the switch, before stalking out of the door, the only thing which separated Tifa from the people she knew and loved, all the things she would never see again, whether she loved or hated them.

Rude gave her one last sorrowful glance, before he left the room after Scarlet, his shiny black standard issue shoes scuffing a little on the stone floor. She heard a delicate metallic chink, before a resounding boom, as the heavy metal door shut behind him.

* * *

See? I told you I was working on it! Review please.


	8. Fate & Coincidence

I'm sure you will have all noticed the regularity of the past few updates-- I don't know where the inspiration is coming from, but I am certainly not complaining. A few people have been pointing out things to me that differ from the game: Just a reminder that this is my own reality, and I do what I like! I've tweaked things, and it may not follow FFVII directly, but hey. I have licence.

Please review, and tell me what you liked. People tend to just say 'update soon! ^^', which is actually quite annoying at times. Sorry for the rant, enjoy!

* * *

8. Fate & Coincidence

Yuffie removed her helmet, hair askew, sweaty, but otherwise smiling. "Told ya, Ol' man."

"Yeah, Yeah let us out of here would ya?" Cid waved his hand flippantly, catching the keys Yuffie deftly tossed to him.

From Vincent's estimations, they could be several floors below where Tifa was being held, and they would need to act quickly if they were all going to escape alive. The holding cells were located just by the stairs, he noted.

"Did you hear that?" Yuffie was frowning, crossing to the small window which overlooked the bay. Sure enough, heavy artillery fire could be heard from the ramparts above them, the aftershock of the cannons sending vibrations through the concrete structure. "Oh holy shit!"

"What is it?"

"It's… Weapon! It's here!" Yuffie's expression was caught between hope and dread.

"This might just be the distraction we need. ShinRa are going to be focusing on that thing; we need to get to Tifa." Vincent paused, weighing up the options carefully. "Cid, Red. We need a ship. Find us a way out of this place. Barret, you're with me; let's get Tifa out of that room. Yuffie… deliver a message to the press. We are not going to stop, until ShinRa is brought down. The get yourself onto that ship and wait for us."

"I was fuckin' made for this shit!" Cid pumped the air with his fist. "Firs' thing I'm gunna do when we all get outta here is have a cigarette."

***

She could smell it; weakly at first, the very distinct scent of gas permeating the air around her. She tried to slow her heart rate the way she had been taught, minimising her breathing, buying her more time…

Her eyes were slow adjusting to the gloom; There were no windows, the only luminescence provided by the power light of the machine that was slowly pumping toxic gas into the small enclosed space of the execution chamber. To her left on the concrete floor, in reach of her feet, was a metal key; so that must have been what Rude dropped. And on purpose too, otherwise why would he have left her feet untied?

She lifted her backside up off the chair to stretch out her leg, finding the key with the sole of her boot. A metal scraping sound confirmed she had found it, and she dragged it closer to her. It would be no use to her while she was strapped into this chair, though, so she started to think about getting herself free of her bindings.

Above the sounds of her own breathing, and the gentle hum of the machine, she could hear gunfire, heavy artillery, firing suddenly. The ground seemed to shake, the walls around her vibrating. Something was happening outside… something big. But she shrugged it off. The more time she wasted, the closer she was to death.

The leather straps were tough against her teeth, the salty taste of sweat and metal against her tongue, but she screwed her eyes shut, teasing each strap out of its buckle. One, two and three, and her left hand was free. The right hand was easy enough, the fingers of her left hand fumbling only slightly with the bindings. In her excitement, she had started breathing more quickly, and she was beginning to feel light headed.

Free, she threw herself out of the chair and flat to the floor, key clutched tightly in her hand. She couldn't make out where the door was, though a little groping around in the dark found the heavy handle which would allow her freedom. But where the hell did the key go? She coughed a little, fumbling around for a key hole, anything, spots starting to appear before her eyes.

Was there a way to turn it off from the inside? She reached out her hands, blindly searching for the controls, finding nothing. Tears forming, she threw her back against the nearest wall and slumped down, sobbing quietly. It was over. Avalanche was over. ShinRa had won.

She found herself thinking about Vincent, how he had looked at her when she had been taken away to face her death. He looked at her as if he blamed himself, as if it should have been him in her place, as if he would have gladly traded with her. If he could be here now, he would. But he too, was trapped, doomed to die, because they'd got caught by ShinRa. And he'd never gotten to exercise justice on Hojo, after all. She should have just told him to shoot them all, there and then in the clearing.

And of course, she thought of Cloud… Would she join him, wherever she was destined to go after death? She knew where he would be, given a choice. She suddenly wished to see her mother again, to be held in her father's strong arms, smell the slightly overpowering scent of his cologne, tinged with the fragrance of burning wood and spices. She wanted to be told everything was going to be alright, she wanted to be held by Vincent again, to be brave enough to just move a little closer and…

The sounds of the furious battle outside did not reach her, and she remained blissfully unaware of Weapon, as it began to prepare a devastating attack, its' particle beam level with the tower in which she was imprisoned. The monster seemed impervious to the metal bullets that were being continually hurled in its direction, instead it was intent on destroying the building before it. The glowing orb in its' chest burned brilliantly, before the energy departed toward the Junon ShinRa building in a burst of light, making contact with an ear-splitting crack. It burned through the metal easily, tearing a large hole in the side of the reinforced wall, exposing the room within.

Tifa shielded her eyes against the sudden burst of light, her lungs suddenly filled with cool, sea air.

***

"Do you think it wise, Cid, to steal the largest of all of ShinRa's ships? Let alone the one we were taken captive on?" Red fixed the pilot with his single golden eyes, seated calmly on his haunches, while the few engineers on board cowered away in fear of him.

"Vincent said steal a ship, an' I'm stealin' a ship. 'Sides, ShinRa owe me one after they shot up the Broncho."

"I see. And this the best one you could have found, is it?"

"I'd say so, yeah…" Cid scowled, punching in some commands at the control console, and jogging back over to the steering wheel. The bridge was huge, with floor to ceiling glass panels which gave a perfect crystal clear view of the ground below the ship. The technology may be a little outdated, though the other smaller ships weren't big enough to house the entirety of their group. And he was sure as hell counting on getting each and every one of them back. The shrill beep if his PHS brought him out of his confused daze. "Y'ello?"

"_Barret here-- You're not gunna believe this, but… I'm comin' towards the ship with Yuffie. You're gunna need to go to the end of the Fuckin' cannon._"

"You're shittin' me?"

***

She blinked a few times, arm thrown before her face to blot out the sun. Sounds washed over her, almost ten-fold in intensity now the barrier of the walls were gone. She dragged herself upright, tentatively approaching the gap in the wall which had just this moment been ripped open before her eyes. She noted that the beam, or whatever it was, had burned right through the wall to the chair which she had previously been tied to. Lucky didn't cut it.

Wind whipped at her hair, cooling the panic-induced sweat that had covered her skin. She peered out of the hole, aware that she could fit through it easily, and that she could possibly scale down the ramparts, if she took care. After that, her ideas ran out. But with Scarlet pounding on the door at her back, now probably aware of the fact that her hostage was going to escape, she had little other choice.

She hoisted herself up into the opening, finding purchase with her feet before she lowered herself carefully down to the closest ledge, gripping tightly with her fingers. The cool wind invigorated her, cleared her mind. Compared to what she had just faced, she had no worries right at this second. She was alive. Not dead. _Alive_. She would see them again. She would see him again.

Breathing deeply, rhythmically, because she had the luxury of doing so, she worked her way down the tower, story by story, ledge by ledge, until her feet found flattened ground. Or at least, flat metal. Before her stretched the two hundred metre long barrel of Junon's cannon, Scarlet's pride and joy. The pistons, pipes and cooling units were larger than anything she had ever seen, and it was clearly a wonder of engineering to behold. But she didn't have the time to appreciate it, though she was unaware that it was powering up beneath her.

Her progress was halted by the sight of Weapon. She'd not really seen it _this_ up close before, and it struck her just how magnificent it was, in all its horror. Black skin, slick like scales, glowing yellow eyes, claws glinting white, and over ten metres long each. it's tail was possibly longer than the canon, and twice as thick flexing powerfully behind it. It's attention, however, was not fixed on her, so she started to run, not really sure what she would do once she reached the end of the canon.

Dive off then swim to the shore? Perhaps she could find the family who she and Cloud helped, when they first arrived in the Old Town. But was jumping in the water such a good idea, from this high? She wouldn't have said she was afraid of heights, but the canon was hundreds of meters up, she reckoned… She didn't fancy swimming with shattered limbs…

"Stop!" This just got better and better. She was standing near the edge of a precarious drop, and Scarlet shows up, the woman who seemed desperate to see her die.

She whirled around, her stomach dropping at the sight of the two soldiers who flanked her, aiming their rifles.

"This is as far as you go,"

"Well done for stating the obvious," Tifa smiled dryly, balling her fists at her side. "Right now, I have to say the precarious drop is more preferable to staying here with you, so, I'll just throw myself off, if you don't mind."

"Move, and I'll shoot you." Scarlet's icy-blue eyes narrowed.

"What do you want form me, Scarlet?"

"I just dislike you, dear."

"Competition?" She raised a brow. "Does it bother you that a few of your Turks have the hots for me, and not you?"

"Oh, please. The Turks?" She laughed gaily. "I've had my share of Turks, enough for a lifetime, thank you very much."

"I'll bet." Tifa responded dryly, and she could have sworn one of Scarlet's guards was snickering.

Her suspicions were confirmed as the blonde turned to address the guilty soldier. "Shut up! Idiot-- I'll have you stripped of your rank!"

Tifa was ever conscious of the rushing of the wind past her ears, and the distant staccato of gun fire, though she could detect something else, a new sound on the wind. Propellers? She whirled around, and suddenly there it was, glinting silver in the sunlight: the cargo ship that had taken the captive. From the bridge dangled a rope ladder, and she could make out the familiar form of Barret, pick his voice out of the wind, calling her name.

"Shoot!" Scarlet was screaming again, and Tifa looked backward, in time to see the guards fold to the ground. Their helmets were shattered and stained with their own blood, their rifles sent tumbling over the edge, Scarlet left standing alone and foolish. From the deck of the Highwind, Vincent ceased squinting down the barrel of the sniper rifle he'd commandeered, two empty rounds rattling out onto the deck.

"Not so big now, are you?" Tifa laughed, before balling her fist, drawing back her arm, and sinking it into Scarlet's shocked face. A bruise burst into life almost instantly, marring her ivory complexion. "Until next time, Sweetheart." She blew her a kiss, before doing a running leap from the end of the cannon, grasping fingers finding the rope ladder. She hooked a leg around one of the rungs, as the ship banked sharply to the right, angling away from Junon.

Blood pounding through her veins in exhilaration, she scrambled up the ladder, pulling herself over the iron balustrade, feet planted firmly on the wooden deck. She could hear Cid's voice, yelling something over the speaker system, and she was immediately taken into a weird four armed embrace, as Barret lifted Yuffie and herself into a back-cracking bear hug.

"I can' believe it worked! I can' believe it worked!" Barret was laughing, his voice hoarse from shouting. He set her down, her sides now aching from the squeezing. Red gave a shrill, celebratory howl.

She grinned, her arm draped over Yuffie's narrow shoulders. "Where is Vincent?"

"Over there, 'gratulatin' himself on his marksmanship, I'll bet."

She turned, sweeping wild strands of her hair aside that were being plucked at by the insistent wind and turbulence. He stood from where he had been crouched on one knee, rifle dangling awkwardly from one hand. She mouthed 'thank you' to him, unable to bring herself do anything else, under the others' scrutiny. She'd find the time to talk to him soon. He smiled back at her, unable to fully meet her eyes.

She wondered if he'd been thinking of her, too.

***

Cid was in his element; he'd taken it upon himself to shove the toe of his boot up the proverbial ass of the commandeered ship's crew, and it was serving their purpose well. No more staying at inn's, no more wasting money, and time travelling. Tifa was partly grateful for that. Though the time she did have left her stranded in the desert of her own thoughts. She'd not had the time to grieve for her loss, just as she hadn't had time for Aeris. She begged their forgiveness.

"I've found the ship's alcohol stash!" Cid announced that evening, as they docked the ship over the plains north of Condor. "Whiskey, beer, wine, whatever you like. Who's up for a little bit of commiseration?"

They hauled a round table up to the bridge, lit it with gas hurricane lamps and seated themselves around it. They looked too few, Tifa noted sadly; Herself, Cid, Barret, Vincent and Yuffie, with Red lying at her feet, when Aeris and Cloud should also have been there, too. Cid filled each of their glasses with a generous measure of some old bottle of bourbon he'd discovered, and Barret cleared his throat as he raised his tumbler, the amber liquid reflecting the flickering light from the lamps.

"Feels like ol' times, in sector 7, don't it Tif?" His rough hand was a pressure of her shoulder, and she smiled in agreement. "This is a toast to all those who died, to make sure we got where we are."

"Biggs, Wedge, Jesse, Aeris, and… Cloud." Tifa whispered the last name, her fingers struggling to hold the glass aloft. Vincent was watching her carefully from across the table, though he kept his reflections silent. "To those who got us where we are."

They drank to that in a humble silence, broken only by spattered coughing at the strength of the bourbon. Cid chuckled a little as he lit a cigarette.

"This is to Yuffie, for saving our sorry asses." Cid cried happily, crisp blue eyes twinkling. "Little Shinobi bitch ain't as dumb as she looks!"

"I'll drink to that." Vincent agreed, taking another mouthful with a grimace, Yuffie grinning proudly, for once humbled.

"I guess we should toast Weapon, too. He created enough havoc for us to get said 'sorry asses' out of that place." Tifa chuckled, taking her shot with distaste. "And to Vincent… for giving me the opportunity to give Scarlet what she had coming."

The table broke in raucous laughter, and they began to play a few games of cards, chatting over the gentle flickering glow of the hurricane lanterns. Tifa's hair was the colour of chocolate, shots of amber sliding over it as she moved her head, the dancing flames playing and dancing against her skin, turning her gold. Vincent was pleased to see her rosy lips were to be found smiling, her shoulders free of worry, even if it were only for a while.

***

Well into the night, Yuffie was suitably drunk, her head slumped on the table, cards long forgotten. Cid was guffawing to himself, desperately trying to draw on any exposed parts of her body with a marker pen he had triumphantly pulled from his jacket pocket, while Barret looked on, shaking his head slowly. Tifa drained her fourth, or was it her fifth glass, before stretching, and hauling herself to her feet.

The tall panels of the bridge's observation window were cool to her fingertips. She leant her forehead on the glass, gazing out into the night. The stars were out in all their glory, no light pollution to speak off, out here in the wilderness. A gentle breeze swept through the grasses, and she watched as a lone Chocobo dashed through a nearby copse of trees. The moon was a sliver of a pendant, a white slice through the midnight, star-dusted sky.

Though her grief was close beneath the surface, she felt calm for the first time in a long while. Cloud would have been proud of what they'd managed to pull off back in Junon, and they'd all survived the ordeal. All thanks to him.

She sensed him hesitating behind her, and she felt a gentle smile creep onto her lips. She turned her body towards him, acknowledging him, allowing him to approach.

"I didn't think we'd be on this ship again, let alone in these circumstances." Tifa said to him, watching rabbits scurrying around outside their burrows, playing in the wild flowers that grew on the plains.

"I know." He joined her in gazing out over the expanse of the Condor wild lands, his crimson eyes following the path of a night bird in the sky, hunting for rodents.

"I thought I was going to die in there." She admitted, leaning on the glass with one shoulder, watching him carefully. "I don't think I would have lasted much longer. Only then Weapon chose that moment to bust open the battlements."

"A fortunate coincidence."

"I wasn't ready to die." She stated, wondering why he was suddenly so impassive. Did whiskey have the adverse effect of making him less verbal?

"Nobody truly is ready for death." He answered, turning his face to hers. His skin was almost ghostly in the moonlight, his dark hair tied back neatly. "I'm just happy we didn't lose you." She regarded him carefully, her brow furrowed gently.

"I'm happy we didn't lose anyone, I don't know if I could have kept it together."

"But you are alright now? You have barely spoken about Cloud… is there anything you want to talk about?" He offered, glancing back toward the table at the sound of Cid's barely contained glee at having drawn his representation of a phallus on Yuffie's cheek.

"I'm fine. I… He wasn't himself. Whoever that was… He is dead. Cloud lives on around us. Just like she does." Tifa sighed, her breath condensing on the glass a little. She aimlessly drew a heart in the talent, before wiping it away with the heel of her hand. "I just feel so small, caught up in all of this. Aeris was… she knew what was going on, and we didn't have the faintest idea about what we were getting ourselves in for. At first it was, 'oh, we just beat this guy up, and he'll tell us this', or, 'go to such and such a place, and you'll find Mr X.' But it's not that simple anymore. There's not a lot I feel we are strong enough to handle, anymore."

"I can see your point. It worries me also."

"But what do _you_ think we should do now? You've proved yourself pretty good at planning on the go."

"I'll think about it, but I'll be honest; six whiskey's aren't good for improving one's thinking clarity."

Tifa took a step closer, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. "I'd say I was thinking more clearly than ever."

"--and I'd say you weren't the best person to judge." His tone was mildly reproachful, though the warmth of a smile danced in his eyes. "But I'm curious, so I'll bite. What _are_ you thinking more clearly about?"

Her gaze travelled from her folded hands to his face, the tenderness it possessed turning his insides to liquid. "Oh, lots of things. Just how lucky I am to have so many great friends." She chanced a glance towards the table, where Cid was smoking cigar with Barret in triumph. His arm was around the bigger man's shoulder, as he muttered something amusing, which made Barret's face break into a wide grin, showing his white teeth. "I wanted to thank you when I got you alone…" An attractive blush dashed her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, though she kept her eyes locked with his defiantly. "I was never a believer in fate-- it was my choice to go into that basement alone and look for you. And it was the best decision I've probably ever made."

"I owe you my gratitude. If indeed, there are forces at play, then it was a chance day they chose to work in my favour."

"It's almost as if you were sent to protect me… and I know that sounds stupid. You chose to protect me, or its just coincidence that it's always you to save my ass, but… I would have been dead three times over by now, were it not for you." She was pleased to realise he was trying desperately to hide his flushed demeanour.

"I was… You trust me; a luxury I felt that, at times, I did not deserve. It was my duty to ensure you stayed safe. I didn't want to give you any reason to fear me, or to be afraid of me."

"Why does my opinion of you matter so much?" She was grinning, succeeding in embarrassing him further. She reached for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Nobody has ever bothered to care so much before."

"Then they were all missing out." His jaw was set, as if he had never meant anything with as much conviction as now.

"Vincent…" She took half a step closer, felt her body lean into his ever so slightly.

"Tifa… This is…" He stepped away, turning his face toward the moon again, letting go of her hand. "We are not… we can't do this. Not now. You are still grieving, as am I. I cannot ask you for anything."

She swallowed, taken aback, her eyes wide and fearful. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"Tifa, don't apologise." He cupped her face, taking a moment to study her, sweep her hair aside gently with hesitant fingers. "I'm not saying this is wrong, that I don't…" He sighed heavily. "Just not now."

"I understand." She trembled a little from the tenderness of his gesture. "Perhaps the whiskey wasn't such a good idea. I should… go to bed."

"Good night, then. If you need me, you know where I will be." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, before turning away. She felt the absence of his body heat immediately, and wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his chest, like she had done not several hours before. But that was then, not now. Things had changed.

She embraced Barret and Cid before waking Yuffie and directing her to her room, before she made her way towards her own sleeping quarters. There were enough rooms to have a cabin each, and she found she was happy to have a space that was hers, that she could personalise a little. Living in and out of inns all the time was tiring.

She threw herself onto her mattress without bothering to undress, though she knew she was going to make full use of the engine-heated waters of the showers in the morning. The moonlight filtered in through her window, casting strange shadows on her ceiling.

Was she trying to replace Cloud? No. She'd long accepted that they couldn't be together. They both knew the limits of their relationship. She'd lost a friend, a huge part of her past that she could never reclaim.

And that didn't change a thing with Vincent; she'd felt something between them, in the time they had spent alone in Icicle Town, before they had reached the Crater, where everything had changed. He couldn't have been farther from Cloud; dark to Cloud's fair, calm where Cloud acted brashly, without thinking. He was accuracy, efficiency, Cloud was brute force and impact. He was dealing with his problems, but Cloud never faced his.

She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed quietly to herself until she slid into a fitful slumber, dreaming of wild flowers and Chocobos, and a certain tall, pale man, watching her in the moonlight.

* * *

Review, please!


	9. Hot Water

So, here's chapter 9. It's a long one, most likely because I won't be able to update for a while, as I will be studying over Easter.

PLEASE everyone leave me a comment/or more complex review, if you are so inclined, its helps me, and also bigger review numbers means more people are likely to read in future!

* * *

9. Hot Water

When she had awoken that morning, she felt the lasting damage that the six whiskeys she'd downed last night had inflicted; It were as if a marching band were playing in her head. Placing her bare feet on the cool wood floor, she grabbed her towel and dragged herself towards the showers.

Though the ship they had commandeered wasn't the most sophisticated ship ShinRa had at their disposal, it was certainly the most accommodating for a larger crew. The water was heated rather uniquely, by pipes which ran around the engines, providing hot water in abundance. The shower room was lined with five cubicles on each side, each with its own door.

She tugged her chosen cubicle door shut with a snap, removing her vest and shorts, then stepping out of her underwear, before reaching for the valve which would release the water. Sticking her hand underneath until she was certain it wouldn't scald or freeze her, she stepped into the stream of hot water, eyes closed, allowing her hair to become plastered to her head.

If there was one thing she loved, it was a hot, powerful shower, especially after she'd been used to crappy ones at substandard accommodations, and _especially_ when she was recovering from excessive alcohol consumption. It cleared her mind, as if it were physically stripping the toxins from her body sending them down the drain. Though she knew she'd suffer for a few hours more due to last night's lapse in control.

Gods, what _had_ she been thinking, she thought, as she scrubbed at her hair, working the shampoo into a lather. Though when she thought about it, she hadn't said anything strictly shaming-- he had been then one to stop it though, whatever it was going to be. She felt her stomach give an involuntary flip as she recalled how she had leant forwards, until she had felt his unsteady breath on her face, how his pupils had constricted, taking in her features with rapid shifts of his gaze from one side of her face to the other.

He had said, 'I'm not saying this is wrong…' So he did think about her, then, or so it would seem. She smiled a little as she rinsed out her hair. Nice to know that for once, things weren't going to be so complex. That someone would say yes, in the near future.

Just not now.

She was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the following heat spike in the pipes, that had her jumping out of the shower's burst with a scream.

***

The remaining members of Avalanche convened in the conference room, deciding to let the pilots and engineers bustle about their posts in peace. They were at loss for what to do. The Northern Crater where Sephiroth was no doubt encased still, amassing strength, was no longer accessible. After Weapon had started going on its' rampage, a barrier had appeared, and all ShinRa ships which had attempted to penetrate it found it to be impregnable, to their misfortune.

So going after Sephiroth wasn't currently an option, to their unspoken relief.

"I think we should try to find better Materia." Came Vincent's suggestion. "The stuff we've got is pretty… produced. I see you've amassed a few powerful pieces, but we'll need more if we're going to have to face anything like what we've already seen."

Barret looked around the table, finding nods of agreement from the others. He never really understood materia, though it seemed that the more they found, the better chance they had. "Seein' as all these Weapons are floatin' about, keepin' ShinRa busy, may as well. Where should we start?"

"Well, Materia is concentrated Mako, right? Which forms part of the life stream. If I remember correctly from reading some of Lucrecia's reports, you can find high concentrations of mako in areas below sea level, or underneath mountains in caves."

"I could talk to the navigator about it, and get some 3D maps." Tifa mused, drumming her fingers atop the table.

"Yeah, the one who drops everything whenever you walk past?" Cid chuckled. "Na, better leave that ta me. Don' wanna scare him do you?"

"Oh." She was humbled, slumping back in her seat. "Well, you do that then. Vincent and I can take a look at them, and then we can think about plotting some courses."

Vincent was currently focused on his folded hands, though his head jerked up at the mention of his name. "I know a place where we can start. I don't think any of you will have been there before. It's a small town in the far south, on an island. We should have no problems getting there now, what with this new ship."

"Well, you go and tell it to that no good pilot we dragged along. An' remember, this baby is called The Highwind."

"When did we vote on that?" Vincent's brow quirked upwards, as Tifa giggled quietly behind her hands.

"You wanna fuckin' democracy, Valentine? This is damn totalitarian, and this ship is called the Highwind."

"Yes, Captain."

"Better fuckin' believe it."

***

The Navigator may have been nervous, but he was incredibly capable, Vincent realised. After describing to him their desired location, the portly young man nodded energetically, stubby fingers working like lightning to punch in co-ordinates. "ETA four hours, sir."

"Good work, Nigel." Vincent patted his shoulder. "And it's Vincent. Don't worry about Cid either," He added with a faint smile. "Only thing you have to worry about is his ego."

Mideel was sub-tropical, if he could recall, and the surrounding lush forests contained an abundance of wildlife. The township was quiet, a hotspot for only the hardiest of travellers, though it promised great rewards for their efforts of toiling through dense rainforest, surviving stifling heat, and not to mention the strange, insectoid monsters. Hot springs were one of its natural attractions, as well as breathtaking mountain ranges, rock formations, and the world's tallest waterfalls.

Damn, his mind was like reading a brochure.

He opted for a short sleeved cotton t-shirt in place of his usual button up, holstering his weapon in a harness at his waist. Hardy walking boots were definitely an option, due to the varieties of terrain they were going to face.

Tifa wore shorts and a t-shirt too, her well worn travel boots donned as usual. Her long hair was braided tightly at the nape of her neck, lest it cause her discomfort in the sticky heat. Vincent found himself wishing he didn't have so much damn hair, so a trip to the cracked mirror in his room, teamed with the small knife he carried in his boot served to rectify that. Tifa let out a strange squeak upon seeing him again, hair shorter, much in the style he wore it in the Turks.

"You don't like it?" He was smirking, brow raised, feeling a little self-conscious regardless.

She shook her head vigorously, her braid swaying at her waist. "No, no. I do, it was just a shock."

She pointedly looked out of the window for a while longer.

The sea was not the murky gray it was in the surrounding waters of Junon-- here, it was crystal clear, glistening emerald in the morning sun. The sands of the beaches were almost white, pure and untouched by civilization. Tifa wished they could move the condo they'd acquired in Costa Del Sol to here, instead. As time went by, she realised that she didn't like crowds so much. Maybe she was getting old.

The third member of their party was Red. Yuffie, Cid and Barret were to scour the Wutai area-- she proclaimed to know it like the back of her hand, and Tifa didn't doubt her for one second. The Highwind dropped them off on a sandy beach a few miles north of the town they were headed for, before it executed a wide arc in the air, angling westward towards the narrow isle of Wutai.

The sea breeze ruffled the small strands of hair that had evaded her braid, and for a moment she appreciated it. The heat would become sticky, and the air humid under the cover of the trees Vincent had warned.

Red was silent as he padded ahead of them, powerful muscles flexing and rolling beneath his flame-coloured fur, tribal markings dancing. Vincent too was quiet, and watchful, though Tifa noted he seemed relaxed, ruby eyes drinking in his surroundings. Since he'd come out of the Mansion, his skin had caught the sun in a way that made her jealous-- if only she could tan as easily, and it now bore a more healthy golden hue.

"I'm glad to see that this place is still unchanged after all this time." He said after a while, the beach now a mile behind them. The morning sun had not reached it full intensity yet, though she was still sweating regardless. She found herself longing for the cover of the trees.

"It's beautiful," She remarked, shifting her gaze to follow two colourful birds as they danced across the azure skies. They were currently crossing some grass land, brilliant wild flowers of every colour brushing her ankles. Marlene would have loved them, she thought, suddenly missing the little brown-eyed girl, who was safe in Kalm. "You have been here before?"

"Yes. I was assigned to protect some researchers collecting specimens. It wasn't very comfortable work, I must admit." Tucked into a sheath at his thigh was a large knife, and slung over his back was a hunting rifle. She wondered briefly what kind of creatures they may encounter once they reached the rain forest, currently a green blur in the heat haze beyond.

It took another hour to finally reach the rainforest fringe, the trees coming thicker and denser, growing taller as they competed with one another for light. The sun was creeping higher in the sky, and was beating down on them with little mercy. a rivulet of sweat was trailing down the back of her neck, and Vincent's forearms gleamed.

He checked his compass, squinting up at the skies. "Four hours bearing south, on my reckoning." He was talking more to himself than her, though she nodded anyway.

The cover the trees offered presented little reprieve from the heat, as Vincent had warned. Moisture clung to her skin, and her clothing, and pretty soon she was soaked through-- with water or sweat, though, she couldn't really tell, and she dreaded to think what she must looked like; face red and puffy from exertion and the heat, strands of flyaway hair… she daren't complete the image.

Aside from the monotonous thudding of their feet with the squelch of rotten leaf litter underfoot, the rainforest was a hive of activity; the continuous chatter of hundreds of types of bird, feathers all colours of the spectrum, the drumming of water droplets onto the leaves of plants on the forest floor, some with leaves the size of dinner plates, and the distant trickle of a stream, bubbling over rocks. Her senses were fully awakened, drinking in everything around her. She spotted frogs, orange, green, and red, Toucans, Parrots, and once, a jungle cat, prowling the branches ahead; at the sight of Red, she bore her teeth, hissing before darting out of sight.

Their path had been gradually inclining, and Tifa had had to keep her head low, to duck beneath unruly trees, and to watch where she was placing her feet to avoid tripping over roots. After an hour or so, another sound was added to the din; a distant vibration, then the roar of water. With each step it seemed to amplify; the air seemed to cool, and the trees thinned a little as they reached a cliff edge, overlooking a gorge into which an immense water fall gushed forth. The spray reached them, even two hundred feet above, chilling her skin.

"We'll have to bear east for a while, to find a crossing…" Vincent muttered to himself, scanning the horizon. Red sat back on his haunches, ears twitching at every sudden sound, his single yellow eye ever watchful.

He was always there, watching, listening, observing what was going on around him. Often they would forget he was there; of course, it was in human nature to interact with other humans, partake in human activities. He didn't mind, though. He was helping them, not there to enjoy himself, though his grandfather had said to do so. Then again, he too, was human.

His companions were silent for a time, seated separately on fallen boughs of great trees, replenishing their body water from the bottles they had brought with them. He regarded them privately, mindful of their silence. He had been there, the previous evening, when their group had come together to celebrate their victory at Junon. And of course, he had heard them speaking privately by the observation windows. He couldn't help having acute hearing, after all.

It was fairly obvious to him they harboured feelings for one another. Though after the loss of their leader, Vincent had considered it wrong to act upon them. Wise, Red thought to himself, but Tifa was truly no longer stuck in her emotional dilemma over Cloud anymore. Vincent just didn't want to believe it was true.

Who he grieved for, Red didn't know. He rarely spoke of himself, and pretty much everybody aside from Tifa knew nothing of him. He only hoped Vincent would be able to overcome it, as Red was rather fond of Tifa. He didn't like seeing her sad, though she had a habit of lazing scratching him behind his ears as she sat in reflection. He rather enjoyed that.

"No sign of monsters, huh Red?" She spoke to him then, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Fortunately," He replied. "Though I do not expect our luck to continue."

"Why such a negative attitude?" Tifa laughed, reaching out to bury her fingers in the fur behind his ears. He closed his eye lazily, leaning his head into her touch.

"Not negative. Merely realistic."

***

He was swimming. No. Not swimming. More like floating. Yes. Everything was green. Bright, too bright. Blurred… He closed his eyes.

All sounds were distorted, echoing strangely around him. He could not place the source of the sound, or multiple sounds; he couldn't separate and distinguish them.

Crying? Was that someone crying? Yes, though it didn't sound human… Mournful and low… familiar.

Where had he heard this before?

_"The planet is in pain."_

Yes. The planet. He was returning there, drifting on the current. Was this Death? Was this the afterlife?

Surely it couldn't hurt so much, if it were. He couldn't feel this sick, if he were dead? So tired… yet suddenly desperate for air. He passed out of knowledge, space and time.

A woman's scream was the last thing he knew. That, and blinding light, burning red through his eyelids.

***

The town was nestled between a valley, surrounded by the forest-covered mountains, as Vincent had hoped; ahead in the distance, he could make out wisps of smoke coming from the houses. He allowed himself a moment's rest, waiting for his companions to reach the crest of the hill.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Vincent caught sight of his arm; his skin was gradually turning bronze after exposure to the sun, thanks to his heritage. His mother's skin had always been the beautiful honey-brown colour of the people of Cosmo, even when she had lived with his father for years in the moderate climate of Kalm.

Tifa huffed to a stop next to him, dropping to her knees and draining her water bottle. Even Red was panting a little, lapping up water from indented leaves which collected it.

"How much longer?" She wheezed, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"An hour, two at the most." He replied, his throat dry. He was aware of her eyes on him, the gentle smile on her lips in his peripheral vision.

"You've caught the sun, you know? Lucky bastard…" He laughed in response, draining the last of the water from the bottle in his hand.

"I think this is where we start seeing more local wildlife, let's just say." His fingers curled around the handle of the jungle knife at his thigh, holding it ready. "They look scary, but they won't pose too much of a problem. They'll more likely be more afraid of you. Just don't let them bite you. I only have a few antidotes."

They pressed onwards, hacking their way through a few of the thicker patches of vegetation they encountered. The sun was sinking in the sky, and Vincent set a faster pace, worried they would not make it out of the forest before nightfall. He wouldn't like to spend the night, that was for certain. Tifa kept close to him, a smaller knife held fast in her hand, while Red circled them, sometimes ahead, sometimes behind, acting as their ears and eyes. He could smell something on the wind, and he didn't like it.

"It's coming." He hissed, ducking lower to the ground, powerful muscles coiled, ready to strike. The sunlight filtering through the leaves was turning orange now, bathing them in colour and warmth. "In the trees, right ahead."

Vincent drew his pistol, aiming with one hand, knife still at the ready in the other. His ruby eyes were wide, brows creased as he strained to listen. "Head hunters…" He muttered.

Tifa swallowed a lump in her throat. Why the hell were they called that? Actually, she didn't want to know.

Red was growling, a low rumbling which set her stomach to stone, set the hairs on her arms on end. The she saw them.

Three emerald green insects perhaps only a little smaller than Red, and she could count each abdominal segment, probably get her fingers between them if she wanted to. Or if she needed to. Large, strange compound eyes, which probably saw a hundred of her, pigmented blue, twitching antennae as thick as two of her fingers. Vincent wasted no time, squeezing off a few shots, before throwing down the knife-wielding arm with all of his body weight, driving the point of the blade into the creatures head. It screamed, mandibles clicking. Vincent's arm was covered in a black fluid.

One of the creatures fixed its inhuman eyes on her, six legs scurrying in her direction. She lunged, perhaps clumsily, the point of her blade sinking into its leather-like flesh. It did not scream as Vincent's had done, instead it wriggled free, mandibles flaring, a strange, yellow secretion dripping from its mouth. Disgusted, she settled into a defensive stance, shifting back her weight to drive her foot into the insect's face, connecting with a satisfactory crunch. Emboldened, she twisted on the ball of her right foot, bringing her left leg around and driving the force of the blow into its thorax. The creature's breathing seemed to hitch, and she drove on, dislodging her knife from its' neck while it was dazed and thrusting it between the panels of its abdominal segments, pulling the blade around in an arc, until the thick black fluid stained her hands, too.

She straightened up, realised that Red had cut the creature he had been fighting to shreds with his claws, though he seemed at loss for what to do; it would be unwise to lick them clean, Vincent was telling him, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

"You did well, Tifa." He told her, offering an encouraging smile before shouldering his pack again. "Not too far to go, now."

***

Traversing the ridges of the cliffs had lead to the discovery of a few caves, which they had found time to explore, seeing as they were only a few metres deep. Only one of these had offered them a gleaming stone, Materia that surged with power when touched. Tifa wondered what it did, though there was no time to test, as the light was failing.

The red sun was setting as they arrived at the town's gates, weary and travel worn. Vincent found them a cheap hotel, and Tifa sank with relief onto the edge of her bed. They'd purchased a twin room; Red seemed to prefer sleeping on the ground anyway. The room was lit by an oil lamp, casting dancing shadows on the walls.

"I've got sweat in places I don't want to think about, not to mention dried Head hunter entrails all over me." She glanced down at herself in disgust, while Vincent chuckled from the other side of the room. "I didn't see any showers…"

"That's because you don't really need them, when you have hot springs at your disposal." He peeled off his shirt, and Tifa pointedly busied herself with locating the clean clothes in her pack. "Grab a towel, I'll show you."

She coughed a little, gathering up the towel the lodge had provided, before following Vincent out of the room, eyes fixed at the point between his shoulder blades, where the muscles met, his skin even deeper and more exotic looking in the oil-lit corridor. She shook herself.

He led her outside, through the back of the traveller's lodge and along a dirt path. She jogged a few steps to fall in line with him, listening to the song of the crickets, chirping in the grasses. The night was still warm, though the pressing humidity of the forest was thankfully behind them for the time being.

He led her into a copse of trees, where a rock pool bubbled quietly. They were the only people staying in their lodge, the owner had told them, and they would have the place to themselves. Tifa felt the absence of Red pointedly. He had stayed behind to begin the laborious process of grooming himself.

There was a tiny outbuilding set into the cliff that rose up to the left, and in here she peeled away her clothes and wrapped the towel securely around herself. Stepping back out into the open, she tugged the elastic from her braid and teased each twist out.

Vincent wasn't out yet, so she took the opportunity to step into the water, and acclimatise to the heat. Thick steam rose from its surface, offering a little privacy at least, though she could only just make out the stars, burning brightly here, where there was no cities to suck out their brilliance. By the time Vincent arrived, she was already shoulder deep. She ducked her head under, the hot water instantly unknotting her tense muscles, and stripping away the grime and sweat from her skin.

"This is heaven…" She said, running her hands over her arms.

"Why do you think I suggested we come here?"

"To find materia, I would hope!" She teased, laughing a little as she worked her fingertips into her scalp.

"Yes, that's true. But you don't seriously think Cid won't make use of similar facilities in Wutai, do you?" She couldn't see where he was for the steam, though she could hear the gentle lap of the water around her. He must be giving her some space, and a little privacy.

"I guess he would. Yuffie isn't exactly his favourite drinking partner. Though after her drew a dick on her arm, I think she might want revenge somehow."

He chuckled from somewhere to her left. "Such choice words, Tifa."

"As always."

"Actually Tifa... I wanted to apologise." He emerged out of the steam, visible only from the shoulders upwards. She'd found a ledge with her backside on the side of the pool, and had seated herself there. He stopped arm's reach away. "I didn't mean to be so… how can I put this?" He looked suddenly lost for words, frowning at a point over her shoulder.

"Shy?"

His grin returned at that. "I was going to say shitty. But perhaps hesitant and indecisive would have covered it."

"I wasn't asking you for anything either, you know?" She ran her hand over her shoulders, working out a kink there. "I wanted to thank you for saving my life again, that's all. I just got caught in the moment."

He ran a hand through his short hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm not good at this sort of thing but… being with you is… refreshing? I'm not sure if that's the right word for it, but you have woken a part in me I forgot was ever really there."

Tifa slid from her perch, stepping closer to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Steam rose from her fingertips, curling up and away into the night air. "You don't have to explain anything. Like you said, we are both grieving… but I just want you to know that…" Her blush, she'd hoped would be hidden by the natural flush from the water, but he didn't miss it. "That what I feel for you was there before Cloud…"

"It's alright, you don't have to say it." He pulled her close by her wrists, and her skin screamed at the contact of their bodies, beneath and above the water; broad, strong shoulders, the firm muscles of his arms brushing against her hands.

"Vincent…" She couldn't ignore where she was standing, so close to him, his fingers brushing at the wet skin at nape of her neck, trailing down the part of her spine not covered by her towel. "You s-said you were grieving too…"

"The loss is still close, for me. Lucrecia may have been many things, but I loved her somehow, regardless. But I know she is gone."

"I think we have _some_ time… at least before we get our assess fried by Meteor."

He looked torn between laughter, and sad realisation. There wasn't must time left, he realised. "You are… I can't explain what you are… but you're the person I least expected you to be."

"What did you expect?" She'd grown comfortable in their proximity, watching the play of light dancing on his face from the water's surface, only a dull glow, absorbed by the billows of steam.

"I expected you to be the last person to feel anything at all for someone like me." His lips twitched into a smile. "I didn't expect your acceptance, for what I am. What I have become." His fingers closed around the key at his throat, and she only noticed it then, the metal gleaming with moisture, the ruby-coloured stone set inside it glowing oddly. The red of his eyes seemed dimmed here, almost burgundy, a rich wine of smooth berries.

"You are you. And I like you." She stepped a little closer, his eyes going wide at the contact of their hip bones, her hands flush against his chest.

"Tifa…" He wasn't able to resist her… Lucrecia be damned, she looked so good, skin gleaming for the water, eyes half-lidded, wanting, wanting _him_. If she could, then…

A sudden patter of feet coming up the dirt path separated them. "Vincent, Tifa!" It was Red. "You need to come out. Now."

"What is it?" Tifa swam to the side, climbing out and rushing around to where Red stood panting, his jaws pulled into a strange smile. Vincent was out too, arms crossed over his chest.

"It's…" He shook his great head. "He's alive. Cloud is alive."

* * *

Review please!!!


	10. Entropy

_I have just read something I wrote a long time ago and I want to curl up and die with shame. It's proper shit. Anyway…_

_Hello, and welcome back. God, this chapter was a hard one. I hate in-between chapters. As do you, I guess, but we have to have 'em. Those of you floating around in the shadows not reviewing-- shame on you! Imagine your review is money, and I need to feed my many children. _

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10. Entropy

He was lying motionless atop one of three beds in the tiny hospital on his side, apparently awake, the aforementioned haunting blue eyes seemed brighter than ever, glowing strangely in the dim lit room, staring at things unseen. He didn't respond conventionally to Tifa's voice; no recognition of her at all, though he started mumbling, things which didn't make sense.

Vincent stepped back into the only other room in the clinic, the one into which they had entered. The hospital was a tiny shack nestled into the hillside of the town; the only thing distinguishing it for what it was being the red cross painted on a little wooden post stuck in the soil. The clinic's only doctor was whispering in a low voice to his nurse, who was nodding sadly back.

"What happened?" He found himself asking, voice suddenly hoarse.

The Doctor looked up from his private conversation. "Someone found him by chance a mile or so north of here. He was washed up from the mako stream."

"Mako stream?" Red turned his head to one side, considering him.

"Yes." If the doctor was shocked by the sight of talking lion-like creature with flame coloured fur, he didn't show it. "Even here, so far south of the crater, the Life stream flows so close to the surface. We do not understand it, but all we know is that it is dangerous. Nobody has ever survived…"

"Will he recover?" Vincent asked, conscious of Tifa's voice sounding from through the doorway.

"If he is strong, he could regain some cognitive functions over time, such as speech, coherent thought: Though I cannot say for sure-- I have never seen anything like this before."

"I see." Vincent remained silent, listening to Tifa's gentle sobs as she tried to get through to her brain-dead childhood friend. The only thing she had left of her past, was now no longer anything more than a shell. Though arguably, he may have been that before now. No doubt it would tear her apart. He had a feeling that she wouldn't be returning with them, somehow.

He exited the building, walking slowly and without a destination through the little village. The houses were stacked on top of one another, made out of wood that could be found growing in abundance in the surrounding vegetation. The few stores it had were located close to the inn where they were staying, but he didn't feel any inclination to go browsing.

The view of the heavens, so far from pollution of the cities and crowds, was mind-blowing. So many stars, the black backdrop of the sky could hardly be seen. Diamond dust, sprinkled onto ebony velvet. Another place tainted by bad memories.

He'd better call Cid and the others.

***

Cid's reaction had been typical. Lots of cussing, cursing the blonde for interrupting his sleep, and always turning up at the wrong time, but Vincent knew they'd be on the airship and with them by the following morning. All he had to do was wait for them.

Tifa had insisted on staying in the clinic, and Vincent had thought better than to object, deciding to return to the hot spring to try and relax, though he should have known it would be a little too much to ask of his brain, to stop thinking for just a few moments at least.

The stars twinkled innocently overhead, and he found himself wondering how many other world's like this one were out there. Not that he'd ever know. Not in his lifetime.

But he thought he would never see many things in his lifetime, though getting projected rather abruptly into the future, and being woken by a rather beautiful woman was one thing he could check of his list. Along with that, he could check off seeing the end of the world. This far south, the meteor couldn't be seen, hung auspiciously over Midgar, or not at least until a certain time in the early hours of the morning, the inn keeper had told him. She expected that many more people would come here to escape the mere sight of it, hanging in the sky, a promise of impending doom.

A symbol for the end of everything. He'd wanted to die once, but he'd come to realise, much to his surprise, that he had taken to life afresh. He liked not being restricted as a Turk. He liked being able to travel the world, surrounded by people he could call friends. He liked that there was someone by his side who cared for him. It certainly had been a long time since he could remember having that stability.

On the Highwind, things didn't seem quite right without Tifa there, too. There had been a few rather heated conversations about _that_, though he had made a point of staying out of them. Barret was angry; Cloud would have wanted her to carry on, to complete what they came here to do. They needed all the help they could get, but instead, Tifa had to go and decide to stay by his side, because _she_ felt responsible.

Vincent remained tight lipped, and when she looked to him for support, he merely told her to do what she felt she had to. He'd never seen her cry, but then, her eyes had glistened, tears gently pulsing down her cheeks. Though she didn't say another word about it, returning to the town's miniature hospital without a backward glance to the hulking silver airship.

The remaining members of Avalanche then decided to continue on with the Materia hunt, what with no more activity of ShinRa's worth investigating due to their occupation with Weapon. Vincent kept his eye on the skies, wondering just how much time they really did have left. Shouldn't they be doing something?-- but it was as Tifa had said, her skin bathed in moonlight. They were small, tangled up in things out of their control. What power did they have, what _chance_ did they have, against a rock the size of a continent, or even a monster the size of the Highwind. They were only human, after all. Painfully, honestly, only human.

Different people in all the Cities, towns, and villages around the world told a different story- Meteor will fall unless we repent for our sins!-- no! It was going to be a year before it hit, no a few days…

Until Vincent didn't know what to believe anymore.

"Perhaps grandfather will know." Red suggested from his spot on the bridge. Cosmo Canyon boasted one of the most sophisticated observatories in the world; surely the men who spent their lives studying the earth and stars would know the answer-- how long _did_ they have left?

They'd searched almost all the places Vincent and Tifa had pinpointed on the map almost a week before, though it seemed an age since he'd seen her face. One last place to check, the place he'd been putting off visiting. He knew the co-ordinates as he did his own birth date. It had been the start of it all. Her Chaos Theory, that nobody including her husband took seriously.

Why was he delaying? He'd been to that cave before, and there was no way he wanted to revisit it. He'd never been superstitious-- he was too straight laced and forward thinking for that sort of crap-- but being in that place had unsettled him. The walls were black crystal, the rock underfoot barely worn, and he'd had a job keeping both himself and Lucrecia upright. The focus of that cave had been the eerie white-blue glow-- Lucrecia had said this was the most powerful focus of mako energy she had ever seen in her years in the field, and it was invaluable to her studies, bla bla bla… Even he'd lost interest in her eager ramblings, watching her only peripherally as she scurried about collecting samples, trying to pick out what it was in that place that was undoing his nerve…

And he remembered it all too well as he stepped inside it thirty years on, his skin rising almost immediately in goosebumps, cast pale in the ever-present luminance of that beautiful crystal rock formation. He couldn't describe what he'd seen in the almost mirror-smooth shine of the rock, standing over twice his height… Lucrecia had mentioned the link between the Life stream, and Mako energy. Perhaps it was something like the barrier between life and death. He could see into the afterlife… and it had never seemed so innocently terrifying to him.

"What was it yer wanted to come 'ere for?" Cid kept his voice respectfully low, as if he somehow knew what this place did to Vincent. Or perhaps the pilot could feel it, too; his sharp blue eyes were wary, wide, and watchful.

"I… I just felt like there was something here…"

"I think it's empty Vince. C'mon… we should at least check in on Tif, 'fore we head to Cosmo."

"Yes… I guess you're right." He lowered his head for a moment, his breath cool against his chest. What had he been thinking? Just hanging onto something that had long ago let go of him, leaving him with just a loose rope. Though he kept on telling himself it must still anchored onto _something_…

"_Vincent?_" He turned, crimson eyes sweeping around the cave warily. He needn't have searched; he knew where her voice was coming from.

Palms pressed to the crystal, but from the other side. Those clever green eyes, so bright and inquisitive, stared at him, sad and questioning. Her voice was thin, and distorted. But it was her.

"Lu…"He crossed over to her, stopping only when her voice commanded him to.

"_Don't… come any closer._" Her honey coloured tresses drifted about her face as if she were in water, her body swathed in a white silk-like fabric.

"I… I don't understand."

"You and me both…" Cid muttered to himself from the mouth of the cave, busying himself with finding a cigarette that hadn't been dampened by their passage through the spray of the waterfall.

"_Vincent… I… I'm so sorry… I never meant to hurt you_."

"I…" His throat was suddenly clogged, and his vision blurred. It had been so easy to be angry with her… but now… he remembered everything. How beautiful she was; those eyes, the same colour as the sea on a stormy day, her skin, not quite pale, though not quite golden, her delicate, slightly upturned nose, her thin, soft hands, he'd felt privileged to hold once.

"Lucy… It's… you weren't to know…"

"_You were right. I should have listened_…"

"Please, don't cry."

Her smile was sad, much like the one she had given him all those years ago, though really only months to him, those fingers loose in his as she tried to let go on his hand._ We can't carry on any more Vincent. It's been fun, but I don't want to hurt you…_ They were separated by class, rank, marriage… now they were separated by death, by a wall of crystal.

"_Tell me Vincent. Is my son alive? Is Sephiroth alive?_"

He stared at her, thinking carefully over his answer. He was aware of the pilot's gaze on him, waiting for the answer he would give. "Sephiroth died a long time ago."

She said nothing more, her palms slowly sliding away from the glass wall between then, her features contorted in grief and pain. Her image was fading. He crossed the space between him and the crystal, watching her fade away out of knowledge, out of sight, and out of existence. His shoulders were stiff from the effort of keeping them strong, his eyes burned from not blinking. He couldn't see outside his bubble of grief, and he would wait until it passed before he would turn to face Cid again.

"I take it that was an unexpected visit from the missus?"

"I guess you could say that." Vincent's voice was thick, though he managed a slightly nasal laugh.

"C'mon, I promise I won't tell anyone, if you buy me another pack of cigarettes. Fuckin' waterfall? Sheesh, Vince…"

"You got yourself a deal."

***

Mideel bloomed green and blue beneath the ship as it hurtled towards in across the ocean. Vincent was sat out on the deck, legs dangling between the railings, chin resting on his folded arms. It had been a turbulent few weeks of life afresh, and he wondered if, should they succeed, he would ever enjoy a little bit of peace. If Cid's inter-steering grumbles were anything to go by though, the outlook didn't look so good.

Thankful at least, that he wouldn't have to make the day-long trek again, he hauled himself to him feet and turned to give the horizon one last look before he would change into something more suited to the climate; but then something caught his eye-- was that… smoke? The ship was whistling rapidly through the air, and he only had to wait a few moments until his eyes could fully adjust. Yes, it was smoke. Lots of it.

Swearing loudly, he turned and ran back up on deck to inform the others.

He prayed that his wildest imaginings were going to be wrong.

***

He scrambled down the ladder after Cid, jogging towards the nearest group of survivors; an old man who was oddly calm considering the whole village lay decimated behind him, reclined against a stack of salvaged crates.

"What happened?"

"Weapon attacked, and caused a rather nasty earthquake, sir." He replied, jerking his head in the direction of the large hole in the earth where the centre of the village had once been. Vincent took a few steps closer, eyes going wide at the sight of a hazy green luminance. "That there is the life stream."

"Where is the hospital?" Cid huffed to a halt by Vincent's side, having now caught up with his companion, steely blue eyes reflecting the eerie glow of the life stream.

"Probably burned. It's not the first time this has happened, you know? I remember back in--"

"I don't have time for this." Vincent growled, spinning on his heel and searching the faces of the other villagers. One face he recognised, though her white dress was dirty and torn now. The nurse from the clinic spotted him at the same instant, and she took a few rapid steps towards him, her expression setting his insides to ice.

"Where are they?"

"I.. I told her not to… that we should stay inside… but she wouldn't listen to me. She took the young man in a wheel chair and… Dr Owen was killed when, a beam fell from the roof. I managed to get out alive in time to see her fall. I'm so sorry." A stream of curses left Cid's lips, his boot connecting with a stump of charred wood protruding from the ground, and Vincent heard Yuffie inhale sharply. But he couldn't feel anything. He wouldn't let himself. He had to believe that she'd somehow made it…

"How far north was Cloud found?"

"About a mile. But I wouldn't get your hopes up. The man surely couldn't have survived it again, and the young woman… I… I only pray she has found rest."

Vincent grit his teeth, a too familiar burn emanating from his core. The underneath of his skin itched, and he suddenly saw red. The key around his neck was a brand on his chest. "Cid. Search by air."

"What about you?" The pilot was watching him, his gaze heavy with concern, but Vincent didn't see it.

"I'm going in."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Almost." Cid didn't know _how_ close he was to going crazy. But he had to know that he'd done all he could. That he'd searched for her. It was his fault-- he should have told her to come with them. Then she would never have been here, left to die… And if he found her, if she was somehow alive…

Out of entropy, comes order, Lucrecia told him once, peering into a test tube of bubbling liquid. Everything exists in the most stable form it can. When disorder--chaos is created, then the chemicals will shift, to restore the calm. Out of change, came Chaos. But could Chaos set it right this time? He had to believe it could.

He pondered this as he began to sprint towards the tree line, out of sight of the villagers before tearing out of his body as he knew it, to become Chaos once more.

***

Cid scrambled up the rope ladder, releasing a tirade of curses as he ascended each rung. That Valentine was fucking mental. Simple. Though he had to admire his passion.

The engines had barely had time to cool since they'd landed here, on the outskirts of what had once been the town of Mideel. What was now a steaming hunk of wood and soil, surrounded by trees. Totally and completely flattened by Weapon. They'd all been sure that it was intent on ShinRa, though he guessed they'd been wrong about that. in fact, as he fired up the engines, one of the engineers informed him of reports of random attacks across the continent. None of which were related to ShinRa.

Damn.

He kept the Highwind low, her propellers working overtime to keep the ship steady. Barrett, Yuffie and Red were gathered by the large observation windows, using binoculars to look out for any signs of Tifa or Cloud. The Life stream was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard of; what was it-- liquid, gas? And it just flowed beneath the earth, like blood in veins and if the planet got injured, it leaked out?

Bugenhagen had alluded as much when they'd visited months before. And even though now he'd seen it for himself, it still made little sense.

"I think I just saw Vinnie…" Yuffie muttered, still squinting down the eyepiece. "Crazy bastard."

"He cares about her. But if we don't find her…" Barret said gruffly.

"Don't say shit like that man!" Yuffie lowered her binoculars, angry tears in her eyes. "We can't just keep losin' people! We're dropping like goddamn flies!"

He shook his head. "That's just the way life is, Yuffie. I don' like it more than you do."

Red called to Cid. "Take us lower if you can. I think I can see something in that copse of trees."

Yuffie rushed to Red's side of the window, her palms flat to the glass, squinting to try and see what he could, and she couldn't. "C'mon, please let it be them, please…"

"Holy shit…" Barret's mouth fell open.

"You call him crazy, Yuffie?" Red's laugh was almost a bark. "My people would call him a hero."

* * *

_There you go. Don't say I don't give you nothing. This was a bridge onto something else, and these are the bits I hate writing the most. I apologise for any errors. Written with love_

_x_


	11. Asphyxia

I always struggle naming chapters. I want something catching, something lasting, that leaves a taste in your mouth. A word that's full of meaning, and power. So this is what I think this chapter is summed up by. Asphyxia.

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11. Asphyxia

Being in the life stream was about the most surreal moment of his life. It wasn't water technically, though it was still impossible to breathe regardless -- he'd have to be fast if there was any hope of finding them both alive in here. With the increase in depth, the pearlescent green gradually shifted to emerald, though his enhanced sight, courtesy of Chaos, allowed him to penetrate its' murky depths.

Images swam all around him, only ever in his peripheral vision-- he was never certain what he was seeing, and hearing-- a cacophony of cries, voices, calling out to nobody in particular. He couldn't make any sense of it. Then a voice cut though them all-- he didn't recognise it, but the gentle female voice seemed to know what his purpose was here. He felt emboldened, filled with renewed hope.

_Not far, now. Not far…_

Ahead, the mixture of shapes suddenly became clear; they were both suspended, eyes closed, limbs lifeless, skin cast a sickly green, in the substance that surrounded them. But he knew there was life in them still. Tifa's fingers were limply clutching Cloud's arm. Chaos's powerful limbs worked in synchrony with Vincent's will, strong hands gripping Cloud under the arm, and Tifa around the waist, muscular legs and wings pulsing and rotating to bring his heavy load to the surface where dappled light sunlight penetrated the Life stream's hazy waters.

His lungs were invigorated by the rush of air that greeted him as he broke the surface, hauling his burden to the shore line, a few metres away. He felt his body shift back, again becoming flesh, red eyes and black hair. Vincent dragged Cloud's heavy body to one side, setting Tifa down gently against the white sands of the tiny bay. He turned to Cloud; his heart was beating weakly-- but it was still a beat. Alive. Lucky bastard. He pushed on his chest, to make sure there was no water left on his lungs. With Cloud coughing and spluttering, he was satisfied he would live. Tifa was blue around the lips, eyes shut, her body still. He pressed his ear to her chest; no beat pulsed beneath him, and he swore steadily under his breath.

Was he too late?

He locked his hands together in the position he had been taught, years ago in training. Pressing the heel of his hand just below the breastbone, he locked his arms in place and began to firmly push down on her chest rhythmically. Come on, Tifa… Her lungs were probably just full of water… 1,2,3,4,5,6…..12…..22,23,24…

He counted, now suddenly aware of the hum of the propellers of the Highwind somewhere nearby. Cid, Barret, Red and Yuffie arrived moments later, eyes wide at the sight of Vincent desperately trying to revive Tifa. No one could move, as if it would disturb his concentration somehow.

Too long, it was taking too long. Panicking now, he stopped. Then pounded his fist against her chest once, twice, three times…

"Come on, Tifa! For--Fuck's---sake!" With one last desperate, though slightly more feeble punch, her body spasmed into life, coughing and gasping. Shaking with exertion, he managed to turn her over onto her side, before throwing himself down on the sands beside her, chest heaving with arising hysteria. He didn't know how many times he'd saved her life, though when he'd said '_and I'd do it again' _it was definitely not an invitation to throw herself into gaping holes and almost drown in the Lifestream.

"We should get to Cosmo." Red huffed, tail lowered in agitation. "They could still be poisoned. My people have medicines to help."

Cid turned to haul Vincent to his feet."Um… Vince? You don't look so good. Kinda… excuse the expression, but green around the gills." Where Vincent's veins had risen to the surface of his skin, the blood appeared to flow green, his skin again it's sickly wan colour.

Vincent frowned. "I'll worry about it later. We need to get these two to Cosmo fast."

"Looks like you'll be needing it more than them."

Between them, Cid and Barret slung Cloud's limp form between their shoulders, while Vincent and Yuffie took the lighter load; where his arms had once been adequate enough to carry her, he now felt weak, struggling to carry himself, let alone half of Tifa's weight up the ramp that lead into the Highwind's lower decks.

Yuffie reeled to one side, Vincent having suddenly dropped to his knees, head swimming, Tifa's form slumped over her almost entirely.

"Shit, Cid! A little help here!" She cried, arm tightly wrapped around her burden's waist, her shoulder socket aching from the strain. The pilot jogged over, Barret's massive biceps able to bear his load alone.

"I care about you Vince, but don't go hurlin' on my deck, ya hear?" His rough hands guided him to his feet, muttering words of encouragement to Vincent as he led him to his small sleeping quarters. "There ya go-- now we'll get you help soon. Just try and stay alive." He told him, but he knew full well the ex-Turk had fainted as soon as his backside hit the mattress. "Holy shit."

Cid jogged his way up the bridge, barking orders to his co-pilot. Cosmo, here they come.

***

Tifa's brain felt as if it were two times too big for her skull when she returned to consciousness. The room she lay in was quiet and dark, the air cool against her feverish skin. She struggled to grasp hold of her thoughts, desperately trying to recall what had happened, to think where she could be now. Opening her eyes seemed like a task of too much effort, and soon she'd drifted back off into a fitful slumber.

When she awoke again, she could hear the gentle chirrup of crickets somewhere nearby, and revelled in the gentle breeze that was caressing her bare arms. Opening her eyes successfully this time, she found herself to be in a moonlit room, with walls of stone, the window cast wide open to allow in the delicate draught, and also the soothing sounds of the night creatures she could hear.

Her muscles were achy and weak, and slow to respond as she struggled to seat herself upright. Glancing around the room, she found herself alone, with two beds, but no other occupants to speak of. Frowning, she hauled her legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet flat to the cool stone floor. Standing took a few attempts, and she kept her hand on the wall to steady herself as she approached the window.

The moon seemed giant here, rising full and brilliant, as the sun sank in the west, partially eclipsed by meteor's angry glaring shape; so she was further north at least. No longer in Mideel. She appeared to several stories high; beneath her window, she could see a fire burning, on the ground a hundred feet or so below, surrounded by dancing shadows. There were colourful tents erected around it, and she could see the many flights of steps, carved into the rock. She craned her neck, and sure enough, above her glinting in the moonlight was an immense telescope.

She was in Cosmo Canyon.

Glancing down at herself, she realised she should perhaps try to find some clothing; she wore a large black shirt, one she'd somehow managed to acquire from Vincent, the last time she'd been in need of it, and her underwear. Not suitable attire in which to be seen by the locals. There was a pile of clothes freshly laundered at the foot of her bed, though none seemed to belong to her. She smiled as the scent of the soap used by the women here washed over her; limes, and spices, with the delicate hint of peach blossom flowers.

Dressed in a traditional orange and red dress embroidered heavily with green and blue flowers, she tore a brush through her hair, before exiting her room. She entered into the living area of Bugenhagen's house, finding it empty. She passed the observatory, and the kitchen, though still she encountered no-one. Frowning, she turned to the entrance way, just as a pretty local woman was entering.

"Oh! Miss Tifa!" She almost dropped the basket she was carrying. "You are feeling well?"

"Um, Yes, thank you. Please, where is everyone?"

The girl smiled, the skin around her almond shaped eyes crinkling as she did so. "They were crowding you. I send them downstairs to eat. You find them in Cosmo Candle."

"Cloud too?"

"You mean the yellow hair boy?" She covered her mouth as she giggled. "Yes, he is also downstairs. Children say he look like Chocobo."

"Thank you!" Tifa shouted back, already out of the front door. She grumbled to herself at the sight of all the ladders, thankful that she'd thought to put on the leggings to save her dignity. No woman living here would manage to get away with wearing no pants, that was for sure.

At last, the final flight of stone steps were in sight, and she felt overwhelmed with anticipation; everything was going to be alright, or at least for a little while longer. Cloud was alive and well-- An amazing turn of events, considering at first she had presumed him dead, and that soon turned to brain-dead, but now… things were back to how they had been.

Rounding the last corner, she was so lost in her thoughts, she collided with someone coming in the other direction. "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't-- Oh, Vincent." She glanced up from rubbing her forehead, watching his expression carefully.

"What-- you're not sorry now you know it's me?" She was glad to see him smile, though she noted that he didn't look himself. His eyes were framed by heavy shadows, sunken. Gone was the golden hue to his skin; it looked wan, and somewhat stretched. His eyes seemed to drink in the dying light of the sun, though; they burned like fire.

"You don't look so well, Vincent. Are you alright?" She took a step closer, scrutinising him further. He glanced at the ceiling as he cleared his throat.

"I am better than I was. Actually I was just going to… get some rest. I feel a little sick."

"Oh.. well, I'll come check on you later then."

"Alright… Goodnight Tifa." He inclined his head, before moving around her, and heading up the stairs, leaving her dissatisfied with his response.

"Are you sure you're alright? I was just coming to see everyone-- I don't know how I even got here." She called after him, worry knitting her brows together.

He turned on the stair. "There was… an earthquake at Mideel. You remember?" She nodded. "We found you and brought you here, to cure the poisoning. But… look, I should get some rest."

So evident was his reluctance to speak that she bid him goodnight, turning to descend the final flight of stairs, though she had been sure there had been a moment he seemed to want to say something else. Someone more meaningful than what she got out of him. Crossing the village square where in the day, the children played, and the locals had market, Tifa pushed Vincent to the back of her mind. Tonight, the square was empty, many villagers now sleeping, those that were awake seated around the fire that burned brightly in the square. Legend told that it had never been allowed to go out for well over a hundred years.

She passed in and out of its' sphere of warmth, turning the heavy handle of the door to the Cosmo Candle Tavern. Candle light, laughter and the scent of food washed over her as she slipped through, her stomach's rumbling causing her to wonder when she had eaten last.

It wasn't difficult to locate her comrades; easily the loudest in the place, and taking up the most room. Cid had a portly local woman seated in his lap, laughing easily at his anecdotes, delivered with flowing hands, and between puffs of a pipe that the Cosmo folk were passing around. Cloud was in quiet conversation with Red at the end of the wooden table, and she was pleased to see that he, at least, looked healthy. Yuffie was the first to spot her from her perch on the end of the table, hopping down to embrace her fiercely.

"She's awake!" She squealed, squeezing her shoulder. Tifa laughed as she embraced each of her friends in turn. She was suddenly the focus of everyone's attention-- did she feel well, did she want anything to eat, how about something to drink-- and in no time she was supplied with a hot meal and wine, and she felt sated and relaxed for the first time in a while.

"You must have passed Vincent on your way down here," Cloud said to her a while later, their conversation almost drowned out by the babble around them. "He didn't look so good did he?"

"No." Her thoughts returned rather abruptly to Vincent, and with them, her worries resurfaced, too. "He was acting odd." She concluded.

"Well, I guess the Lifestream does that to you." Cloud ran a hand through his hair.

"What do you mean?" She frowned. "You mean…"

"Cid said he went in after us, yes." Cloud paused, a shadow crossing his visage temporarily. He shuddered a little. "I remember seeing things… replaying everything in my head. You were there… When… In the reactor."

"It's alright, Cloud. I…" She heaved a sigh. "I never should have let you go on thinking you'd returned to Nibelheim…"

"But I did, Tifa. I _was_ there." He took her hand in his. "I just didn't want to admit to you that I had never made it into Soldier."

Her chest was suddenly crushed by overpowering sadness; he'd loved her once, in some form or another, and she'd just never _seen_ him. It was ironically and painfully laughable to think that when she'd finally realised her own feelings, his had long been extinguished. Whether by age, or by his experiences, she did not know. But it didn't matter; it was all in the past, now.

"You don't have to apologise. You… you kept your promise." A momentary elation brought a tender smile to her lips. "Now, we just have to continue on. You are still Cloud. You are still my childhood friend."

"I know that… But we'd both be just a memory, had Vincent not saved us. Cid told me he had to resuscitate you. You… you took some persuasion to return to the land of the living, Tif." Her fingertips found the tender and blackened flesh at her chest; the bruises were ugly and purpling, but they would eventually fade. "Hurts?" When she nodded, he gave a soft chuckle. "No broken ribs though. That's a good thing, I guess."

"I just don't understand…" She sighed, staring into the bottom of her near-empty wine cup before she drained its' contents. "I asked, but all he said was; We were _found_. I just don't get why he was being so evasive."

Cloud smiled awkwardly, his hand finding the back of his neck. "He's probably got a lot on his mind. If anything I went through in the Lifestream in anything to do by. All I know is, Vincent is a… complex individual. You'll just have to work him out. Or just beat it out of him."

"Interesting idea." She rolled her eyes, taking another generous mouthful of wine from her cup, which had at some point been refilled. Should she go and speak to him now, or leave him to it, whatever he was doing up there? Excuse or no excuse, he had looked ill; the worse she had ever seen him. Perhaps she should just leave him alone for now.

An hour or so later, as the hour drew close to midnight, Cid caught her with her chin in her hand, still seated at the table looking indecisive. Most of the other's had retired to bed, though having only recently woken herself, she didn't feel the need for sleep. He looked a little guilty, and apprehensive about something, as he shuffled along the wooden bench opposite her. The candle flickered between them, the wick down to the very end now, having burned all through the night.

"Tifa? I gotta tell you somethin'. He'll kill me for tellin', but… ah hell, it's all for his own good." The wood creaked under his shifting mass.

"What is it, Cid?" She glanced up, her warm amber eyes finding the pilot's hesitant ice blue ones.

Cid squinted, scratching the back of his head, taking a fistful of his hair with one callused hand. He radiated discomfort. "See, I promised. He didn' ask, but I promised Vincent I wouldn' mention it to anyone. But… I seen 'im actin' odd tonight, and Cloud said he was all evasive with you an'--"

"Cid, would you spill it already?" He'd gotten her attention. Something Vincent wouldn't want her to know?

"Allrigh' woman! Sheesh… We went to this cave an'… well let's just say he got a visitor from his past. Guess, so's I won't feel so damn bad for tellin'."

"Hojo?" He shook his head. "It can't be Lucrecia, she's…"

"I know. I didn' understand any better n' he did. But she was there. I didn' want to ask him 'bout it. Seemed kinda outta my depth." He released a heavy sigh, breath rattling as he did so, cracking his shoulder joint with a twitch of his arm. "But he's either shook up, or… I just don' know, Tifa, but I figured you'd know better. You don' have to talk to him about it, I just thought it might have somethin' to do with his actin' odd." Cid looked a little relieved, having had out with it.

"Well, I appreciate your concerns, Cid. I was going to go and speak to him now, actually. To see if he's ok."

"Sure. Well, whatever your reasons, you'd better go and make sure he ain't sharin' with Cloud. Don't think the spikey headed git would appreciate listening to you two prattlin', and whatever else all night."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Ah, hell Tifa. Are you that blind?"Apparently so.

She sucked on her bottom lip as the door to the Candle snapped shut behind Cid, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of this new information; she couldn't decide whether it would help her or hinder her, in trying to get through to Vincent. Would it change her perspective on things, cause her to hold back, instead of blundering onwards?

She swallowed down her anticipation. As it turned out, Vincent's room was apart from all of the others. Out of the warmth of the Candle, she shivered a little, the desert nights a lot cooler than the days. Drawing her arms around herself, she made her way up several flights of steps, and down the narrow hallway. She paused, before tapping lightly on the door. After a moment, it opened, and on recognition, Vincent opened it wider, though somewhat reluctantly, to allow her entry. The room was dark, and oddly, the bed was still neatly made.

She waited until he had closed the door before taking a seat on the edge of the bed, scrutinising him in the dim light.

"I just thought I'd come and see how you were feeling. I didn't.. wake you did I? No? Oh, good. Well, also, I wondered why you didn't tell me about the Lifestream. About diving in. And, well, saving my life… also, giving my these rather nasty chest bruises that until now had been a mystery to me." She glanced down at her chest, where the tender flesh still hurt to touch.

He opened his mouth then closed it again. "I guessed someone would have told you, and it seems I… I was right." He set about lighting a candle, placing it down on the dresser, bathing the room in a gentle amber glow.

"You saved me again. and Cloud, too. But I never asked; how… how is he not… well, brain dead anymore?" Vincent seemed to be getting increasingly uncomfortable with her questions.

"The mages here could do nothing for him with their potions and herbs. Whilst You, Red and myself were searching the Mideel caves, we found some materia. It turned out to be able to cure all poisons. Including the one you and Cloud were suffering from. But you still had a fever for a day or so afterward. I-- I thought you wouldn't wake up."

She glanced up at the break in his voice. His back was turned to her; he was stood gazing out the window, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

"Well, I did wake up." She said softly, rising and crossing to stand by his side. "And now, here I am."

His eyes reluctantly met hers, darkened rubies shimmering in the moonlight. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself if you'd… If I lost you."

Her voice was a whisper. "Why?"

"Because I should have told you to come on the ship with us. I should have realised what the Materia was for earlier… I should--" She placed her fingertips over his lips, felt them warmed by his steady exhale against her hand.

"It doesn't matter-- I shouldn't have stayed. I should have gone with you, continued with the search, but I… Just seeing him there, near enough dead, I just… I couldn't leave him."

"I know." His jaw was clenched, and she suddenly maintained the notion that she might know what this was all about.

"Would you have done the same for Lucrecia?" His eyes went wide, and she felt a thrill at having elicited some kind of response from him.

"I'm not sure that I understand what you mean." He was angry now, but that was what she wanted.

"Well, I think I understand perfectly." Her harsh tone set a flicker of discontent into his set jaw and hard eyes, though she ploughed on. "When I found you, I found a shell of a man, a skeleton. It may have taken me a while, but I've found out more about you. You are bones, and flesh, and skin, and… You are Vincent." Her tone softened, and she took a step closer, tentatively taking his balled fist in her hand, prising his fingers apart until he realised her intention and relaxed them. She threaded her hand through his. "And I know that you thought, and still think, that because I believed Cloud to be dead, and now he is alive… that maybe it would reawaken my feelings."

She didn't miss the flash of disbelief across his hardened visage. "I…"

"--And after you saw Lucrecia in the cave, you feel more alone now, than ever."

His head lifted, expression resigned. "You know?"

"Don't be angry at Cid, he was only trying to help." She studied the back of his hand, trailing her finger gently along the recessed of his knuckles. "--but I'm right aren't I?"

"Yes." He lowered his head, dark hair falling over his eyes, eyes which were screwed shut. Shoulders heavy with shame.

"Vincent… don't worry. I'm not angry with you."

"I just need a little more time. Just a little more." He let go of her hand, raking his fingers through his hair as he paced the periphery of his small room.

"I'm not asking you for anything, Vincent." She watched his body move around her, muscles tensed, body language agitated.

"I know, and that's the worst part of it." He laughed dryly, shaking his head. "Because whatever you would ask, I… I want to give it to you." He stopped before her, his expression filled with a strange longing. "Anything, and I would give it to you." Fixed by his intense gaze, she felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.

"Vincent…"

"Just one more day. Tomorrow, maybe I won't feel so sick. Tomorrow, maybe I'll feel braver." She cocked her head to one side.

"But I haven't asked you--" It was his turn to step up and silence her, the proximity of his body radiating a warmth that she wanted nothing more than to draw nearer to. He smiled softly, reaching up with hesitant fingers to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered at the contact. "Right, well… I'll look forward to tomorrow, then." She couldn't hold back her smile, anticipation for whatever tomorrow would bring already building inside of her.

"Goodnight, Tifa." He pressed his lips to her forehead, lingering to inhale the scent of her hair, before he let her out of his room. She didn't look back as she walked away, down the corridor. She'd be by the fire if he needed her, she said. Though he planned on using all the time he had available to him to think.

Had it been saving her life? Had it been the strength of her belief in him, when he had all but expected it? Or had it been the way the firelight had caught in her hair, or the way the snow clung to her not-quite-ebony hair, dancing in the breeze?

He lay on his back, staring at the jagged strip of white moonlight that adorned his uneven ceiling.

It was the way she scowled whenever she thought someone wasn't looking, the way she chewed her lip when she read, the way she laughed over a game of cards and a glass of whiskey. It was how she walked, a slight bounce to her step when she was happy. It was how her muscles worked when she was fighting, pulsing powerfully beneath ivory skin…

…it was the way she sometimes kicked off her heels under the desk, to cool her feet on the floor, how she squinted into test tubes, her glasses always slipping down the bridge of her nose. It wasn't just her not-so-easy smile, nor her slightly unruly mousey hair, but it was _something_.

He'd gotten into a right mess. Once upon a time, whilst in the Turks academy, he'd probably fallen in love once a week. Things were much easier then; When sleeping with a woman wasn't a complex act, had never been too hard to initiate, once she was herded in the right direction. Though since those days, he had matured, realised that every action had repercussions.

Every. single. damn. one.

* * *

Well, there it is. I'll get my skates on, though bear in mind I am meant to be studying. I blame you-- All of you. So make it worthwhile, and leave me a review-- drop me a line, and let me know if my writing's fine.


	12. Equilibrium

_You ran around inside my head,_

_when you passed out-- I felt dead._

_And I realise: you make me live._

_And when my world starts to cave in,_

_You jump inside and take my hand,_

_no matter where: you are there._

_--_Plumb, Real Life Fairytale.

12.

She'd slept rather restlessly; something she could attribute to a number of factors; her lengthy fever-induced sleep that she had fairly recently woken from, the chirping of the crickets rather insistently gnawing at her nerves, and of course, _him_.

Never had anyone made her feel like… _this_. She couldn't stop thinking about him; the way her skin had sang at the touch of his fingertips, and she seemed to be able to recall his scent, if she tried hard enough. She couldn't shift the image of his sunset eyes from her mind, how they had caught the dying evening sun, when she had crossed him on the stairs. The way he seemed burdened by something rather suddenly.

She didn't want him to have to say anything, make apologies, to promise her answers. She knew what she felt, and she knew he felt something in return. That alone was enough security for her. For now at least. Or rather it had been; of late, she'd become rather agitated. She just wanted things to be out in the open, just without an awkward confrontations or recollections of bad memories, surging up from the depths of the past.

Though it was never as simple as she hoped it would be. She should have known that by now.

She wanted to know what it was like to have someone lie by her side at night, to hear their breathing; the only sound, a soothing rhythm against her forearm. She wanted to feel his fingertips in her hair, on her neck, all over her body… She craved to know one day, the brand of his kiss…

She shook herself, chastising herself mentally for letting her mind wander frivolously. They had come here for something much more important than… than whatever it was. The astronomers had been studying the skies avidly since Meteor's ominous arrival, taking measurements, making calculations, speculations, and drawing conclusions. In the morning, they were to meet, to find out how long they had left before it would inevitably complete its' fall through space, and connect with the planet's face, destroying everything.

She had to keep focused. She had to stay strong… she had to…

Unable to sleep on waking shortly before dawn, she heaved her suddenly heavy limbs from her bed, dressed, and made her way to the ever-burning fire in an effort to keep warm, and to clear her mind. She was not alone, however; she spotted Cloud on her long descent down the stone staircases, and she cleared her throat to announce her presence as she seated herself by the flames, enjoying the dry heat on her face.

"You are awake early." He stated unnecessarily, gaze wandering to the skyline, where a faint peach light was bleeding into the black of the night sky, permeating the darkness.

"I've not slept well," she admitted, scraping her boots in the dirt. "Too much on my mind."

"Hm. Did you, uh… talk to Vincent last night? Or is that none of my business?" His fingers buried themselves in his disorderly hair, eyes unfocused as he returned to staring aimlessly into the dancing flames.

"Well, on principle, I guess it isn't." She chuckled a little. "But, we did talk. And I think I understand now."

Cloud said nothing more, his expression devoid of anything that would shed any light on his inner musings. She wondered that if Aeris were here, what her advice would be. She smiled to herself; sometimes the ancient surprised her with the stuff she came out with. She would probably tell her to go ahead and get laid already. A little more sobering though, was the thought that perhaps by now, Cloud would have told Aeris how he felt for her. Then maybe, he would have been happy.

Her shoulders sank with a sigh, attracting an inquisitive stare from her companion, still, on taking in her expression, he thought better than to ask why.

She dragged herself to her feet and contemplated finding some food; since losing her appetite, she appeared to have found someone else's, as well as her own. Her hands full of fruit, she made her way to the Cosmo college rooms, devouring a plum, then a peach on the way. May as well stay healthy, for whatever good it was going to do in the end, she thought pessimistically. The day was still young, and the observations wouldn't be ready until near sundown. She may as well make use of her time.

Vincent however, filled his spare hours much as he always had. He hadn't slept as much as would be regarded normal, even for him. Though by dawn, he'd given up fighting with himself. Dressed and showered, an hour wasted maintaining his gun, and suddenly he found himself idle. Thankfully, it seemed Cid was to come to his rescue. The locals were going hunting for rabbits, and he'd always fancied trying his hand at hunting old-style, with wooden spears. Vincent didn't doubt, that with that giant lance of his, that he'd miss. He may as well waste an hour or so. Thinking about rabbits seemed much better than thinking about his dead lover, and the impending end of the world.

Tifa however, felt she had spent her day rather productively; she could be found in the depths of the Cosmo vaults, searching through ancient books, speaking to the teachers there, and asking many questions. She was trying her best to push other things from her mind, by way of cramming in more things, or at least, that was the intended logic behind it. She fancied that she would have taken to the life of a student, studying underneath one of the masters of the sciences here, as she had always wanted to as a girl. But of course, things hadn't quite played out the way she had hoped.

If only her circumstances had been different. If her mother hadn't committed suicide, or rather if she'd never been ill at all--then her father would never have had to work as much as he had, to support his family. If her father had not then died, leaving her alone, she would never have had to leave her ruined hometown behind for the city. If Sephiroth had never existed, then her home would still stand; Then her father would be alive… Aeris would still be alive.

She suddenly felt that she should find time to talk with Cloud about her, about everything, before the end. He was still her best friend. She should understand what he was going through. She'd felt it once, or something akin to it, when she'd presumed him dead in the crater. He was family to her; he watched her back, gave her advice, kept her grounded. She couldn't forget that, no matter what Vincent had become to her. She couldn't turn her back on him.

All too soon, the hour of sundown approached, and Red arrived to take her up to the observatory. She bid goodbye to the few students left in the college rooms, still remaining here, even though the world they so avidly studied was doomed to oblivion. She closed the books, filled with the knowledge of generations, of civilization. All to be forgotten.

Later that evening, Tifa lay in the gloom. She'd chosen to leave her room in darkness; somehow the energy to light a candle didn't seem worth it. Her brain was merely dead flesh. she couldn't think.

The observations of meteor taken using the telescope had been rather confusing to say the least; It was not moving. Measuring the distance daily, (something to do with how long it's angry red glare took to reach them), and they could only assume that Sephiroth was controlling it, holding it suspended over their heads like the overstated omen that it was. Though they weren't to relax; if somehow the force that was holding it there were to cease… then the fastest possible time it could impact, based on its mass and the earth gravitational pull etcetera, etcetera… the world as she knew it could be gone in the space of two weeks.

Two weeks? What was two weeks in a life time? It had taken only hours for her home town to burn. It had taken seconds for Aeris to die. Her brain could fire impulses at over a hundred metres a second, or so the teachers had told her. But still, two weeks was too short a time to… to try and stop it.

It had been raining, when she'd left the darkness of the observatory. Instead of running for cover, she had revelled in the sensation of the cold rain on the backs of her bare thighs, the way it trickled down her back, made her hair cling to her shoulders. The rain cloud's almost entirely obscured meteor; she could pretend for a while that it was not really there, spreading her arms, the scent of rain on the hard-baked ground saturating her senses.

She'd laughed, took her time walking in the open, her body suddenly more alive. Each time a rain drop hit her bare skin, hundreds of neurones would be stimulated, firing up to her brain, where she processed the information. All in less than a fraction of a second. About as many impulses as there were raindrops.

She thought about everything she had learnt in the few hours she had dedicated herself to reading, and talking with the professors. She daren't think about how much a few years here could teach her-- it destroyed her a little each time she thought of her time as limited; though inevitably, it would be.

Later, she lay on her bed, dressed in an oversized nightshirt, bare legs still damp from the rain water. As lightning flashed outside her wide-open window, she saw the outlines of the furniture in her room illuminated momentarily. Listening drowsily to the persistent and periodic booms and crashes of the thunder in the skies above her, she didn't hear him tapping at her door.

Vincent pushed it open tentatively, the creak of the hinges barely audible over to the rumbling of thunder, right above their heads. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her. Eyes closed, dark hair spread about her haphazardly, fingers clenched loosely. Her bare legs protruded from beneath the hem of a nightshirt, tugged on hastily over damp skin, gleaming in the light from the candle he held in his hand. Her clothes lay in a heap in the corner, forgotten.

Her eyes opened suddenly, taking in his sudden presence with a start.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I knocked…" He told her, setting the candle down on her dresser. There had been a power cut it seemed, due to the storm. the few electric lights that Cosmo did have were out.

"It's alright," she replied softly, slowly sitting upright, elbows resting on her knees. He closed the door shut behind him.

"How are you doing?" He seated himself on the edge of her bed, gazing at her, ruby eyes filled with concern.

"Two weeks, Vincent. And at any time. How do you think I am doing?" She whispered angrily, gripping her damp hair in her fists.

"Tifa…That's the maximum time it could be," He corrected, though he knew it didn't make things any better. "And... well, we don't know when it will fall surely."

"When Sephiroth decides to come out of the crater, most likely. He's been in there long enough already. It scares me, just waiting. I'll be fine so long as I can sink my fist into something, as long as I am out there actively trying my best to--"

"You are trying your best, Tifa." He gently prised her fingers away, detangling them from her hair. "You have been all along. But like you have said, there is only so much we _can_ do."

Tears began to spill, tracing silver streaks down her amber-lit face. "I don't want to think that we can do nothing. I want to think that there is _something_… there has to be." She hugged her knees, suddenly looking helpless. "You know, there have been times that I've felt older for my age, but now… I feel like a child."

Vincent knew that feeling. "How old are you?" He'd never thought to ask her, in all that time. He guessed that it was better now that never, with an introspective dry chuckle.

"I turn twenty one in May. Or at least I would be, if…" She choked on her words, and thinking it would be wise to remain silent until she calmed, she rested her forehead on her knees. Vincent's palm came to rest hesitantly at the nape of her neck, fingertips shifting the damp weight of her hair aside.

So young. Too young, to have the burden of the world on her shoulders. Not to mention a meteor.

"We have to stop ShinRa from... firing the gun." For they had also learned that since Cloud and his party had left Midgar, months before he had even rejoined the realm of the living, ShinRa had begun to build a massive ray gun, much to the effect of the one that could be found in Junon, except much more powerful. It would harness the energy from all the remaining reactors, and fire a single concentrated beam at the force field that surrounded the North crater. The force field that nothing seemed to be able to penetrate. The force field that was the only things keeping the Meteor where it was, as far as they were concerned. And the Sister Ray, as Scarlet had so lovingly named it, was nearing completion.

"They always fuck things up." She spat, driving her fist into her mattress in frustration. "First they go and create the problem in the first place, and then they decide to… to-- goad him! It's insane."

"I know." Vincent swallowed, his hands now coming to rest under his chin, elbows on his knees.

"We are headed for Midgar tomorrow morning," She murmured softly. "I don't know how we are going to get to Rufus… There's no way we'll be let back in…"

"Don't worry about that right now," He tilted her face towards his, fingers cupped beneath her delicate chin. "We'll figure something out. We always do, right?"

The silence hung between them, the patter of rainfall like static in the background. There was so much to say, and now it seemed, so little time was left so say it in. And yet still, so little time for how much he felt he had to explain.

She truly was an exquisite creature to behold. Cliché as it was to think so, the candlelight was romantic, and her beauty was almost archaic in nature. Rose coloured lips, a flush brought to them from exposure to the rain, her ivory skin cast a glow, damp hair twisted into a loose braid, tossed carelessly over one shoulder. Long legs, stretched out before her. And those eyes… So deep, and full of questions, rich, intoxicating, offering him everything he never knew he wanted…

"You said you would talk to me tonight. about… well, whatever it is between us," She said after a while, her expression almost doubtful. "I wouldn't have asked you, but… I guess I want to know now that… we have so little time… "

The flame of the candle flickered in the breeze. Her dampened skin was raised in goosebumps. Vincent got to his feet, moving around the furniture in the room to shut the window against the elements, the room suddenly too quiet. "Someone once told me that to live in the past is to lose an eye, but to forget the past is to also lose the other." He stated after a time, shifting around to find her eyes fixed intently on his face. "Do you understand?"

"I think I understand." She got to her feet, and he wondered if he'd imagined it, but he could have sworn her breath had hitched in her throat, before she composed herself before him. "To have balance, you've got to be at least partially blind."

He laughed through his nose. "Something like that. Look, I didn't mean to come to you with a riddle. I just want to tell you that… I care for you. Maybe it's something more. I don't know yet." He laughed again, this time, it was without humour, filled with bitterness. "And I may never know. But I do know this." He turned to her, eyes ablaze with ferocity, and determination. "You deserve something so much better than… than what I can give. But I will give you anything you ask. Name it, and it is yours."

Her knees felt suddenly weak, her lungs aching with the barely adequate breath she was holding. "Vincent… I- I don't want to be alone tonight..."

It was his turn to compose himself, his heart giving an involuntary stutter in his chest, beating rather forcefully against his ribcage. "Then I will stay for as long as you need me to."

She took half a step closer, her strong powerful hand finding his. He was still surprised by her hands; for a woman who used them as her weapon, they were still so soft; small palms, long elegant fingers, entwined with his. "If we… If we fail, and… we can't stop it… What will you do?" She asked meekly, peering up at him with those eyes, her bare feet, inches from his as she stood almost chest to chest with him.

"I… I haven't thought about it." He admitted, flexing his fingers, absently stroking the back of her hands with his thumbs. "Have you?"

She gave a small laugh, resting her forehead on his chest. "I've been to the great libraries of Cosmo, to the telescope; I think that's the closest I'll get to an education here. That's what I've always wanted to do."

"An admirable thing to want." He told her, enjoying the sensation of her warmth against him. "Surely there must be something else?"

"I've never thought about what I've wanted. Things that are possible at least. You can't bring people back from the dead, can you?" He shook his head in answer to her question. "But… Well, you are here now. That's partly what I want."

"What?"

"I want to be with you. When it ends. I want to- to…"

"Tifa." He took her face in his hands, brushing away angry tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I'll be with you. I promise."

"And now?"

"I'm not going anywhere…" At that she gave a gentle smile, before griping the front of his shirt and tugging him closer. Their bodies were flush with one another, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. Suddenly, he wasn't aware of the world around him; never mind that the ground was shaking, windows rattling in their frames with the repetitive boom of thunder. He didn't pay any attention to the periodic white flash of thunder, except to the way Tifa's skin reflected its' glare. He didn't hear the rain lashing against the windows.

Her breath was unsteady against his cheek as he leant closer to claim her mouth.

"Tifa…" Her name was almost an exclamation, catching in his throat as if it were his last breath. She couldn't help chuckling a little, hiding her face from his view. "What's so funny?" She swore she could feel heat emanating from his unwavering stare.

"I'm just… nervous." She admitted, turning her face toward the window, staring out through the curtain of falling rain. "I'm… I don't want to do anything wrong."

"Why would you do anything wrong? We don't _have_ to do anything." He pulled back to better view her face; she appeared unsure, hesitant.

"I… want to."

"Then what's wrong? Please, talk to me."

"I just… it's just fucking stupid. But I think sometimes, would it be better not to… to just leave things as they are. That way I'll not… I won't miss it." Angry tears pulsed down her cheeks now, though she brushed them away brusquely. "I just want you so badly right now, and I… I'm just worried it will be the only time we have together--"

"You want to walk away from this? If that is what you truly want, then we don't have to. I can just turn around and go--"

"No!" Her voice rose to a crescendo, breaking. She clutched at her throat. "Please, I'm sorry."

"If you want me to stop, then say stop." He gently pulled her body to his by her hips, closing than final gap between them. Fingertips gripped tightly, as she breathed unsteadily against his cheek.

Slow, deliberate, unsure at first, but at the scent of her skin, so close this time, for the first time, he kissed her firmly. She held onto him tightly, gaining confidence to bite down gently on his lip as he withdrew, then nipping a little harder, a thrill shooting along her spine at his involuntary sigh of gratification. Gods, she had been stupid, she wanted this more than anything, more than everything. Sephiroth could go to hell…

She slid a knee between his thighs in an effort to draw closer to him, his lips parting in a breathless sigh, agonizingly aware of their bodies' points of contact; sharp hipbones almost grinding against him, firm breasts against his chest, fingers tangled in his hair…

Heart rate soaring, Tifa's mind was buzzing with the possibilities, the implications… she dragged her teeth over her bottom lip, snagging on the dry skin, moistening them with the tip of her tongue before leaning in closer, hips rubbing together, aggravating the focus of his pleasure. She could tell he was holding back; the way he gripped tightly at her shirt fabric, at the level of her hips gave him away, not to mention the fact that his eyes were shut, breathing deliberately, gently through his nose. And it made her want him so much more.

She traced kisses at his jaw, encouraging him with the tip of her nose to turn his face to one side, allowing her access to the underside of his throat, an area which seemed to make his internal struggle so much more difficult. Her teeth worried his earlobe, lips parting to whisper gentle words there.

With her fingertips hooked at the waist of his pants, her lips moving against his once more, she hoped he would resolve his internal conflict and pick her up, throw her down and just screw her, because they both knew he wanted it, too.

His tongue met hers as she parted her lips, gently at first, a tentative touch of tip to tip, then he felt emboldened to pull her closer, and explore her mouth more; the smooth surface of her tongue, the sensitive, warm and moist underside which pulled a deep moan from within her when his tongue stimulated it.

Vincent's mind was in oblivion; He knew nothing, except that there was a fire raging within him, consuming him, dissolving him, until he was nothing, until he was pure nothingness. He knew only this; this wondrous bliss, that was currently making it incredibly difficult for him to remain upright. No ascending or descending motor control, just enough sentiency to grip her body tightly to him, to trail kisses along her jaw, to her exposed throat, to nip and gently suck at the tender flesh there.

He was blazing, he was ravenous, he needed her.

Trailing fingers along the hem of her shirt, bending to reach it's hem that brushed her mid thigh, he then dragged his hands back up her body again. He peeled away the layer that separated them, skirting the curve of her hips, the indentations of her ribs, the swell of her chest, then finally the contours of her arms, stretched above her head. Her hair tumbled back into place about her shoulders, cascading around her beautiful face. Plain cotton could never look so good, he found himself thinking.

His shirt was gone with a flurry of her expert hands, and unable to maintain the distance any longer, he ducked to cup her thighs, lifting her body from the ground and pulling her to him. Her abdomen was pressed to his chest, his face almost level with her breasts. She leaned down to kiss him, her tongue swirling around his as he took a few steps in the direction of the bed.

Dark hair a contrast to white sheets, gazing up at him from the pillow with half-lidded eyes, begging him silently to not stop. He would indulge her for as long as he was able, because he was long past resisting her anymore.

Her skin tasted differently, depending on the location on her body; her neck, her breasts, her abdomen, her wrists, her thighs. Her body responded to his touch, his mouth a hot brand all over, until she couldn't think; she was rendered boneless, mute, and paralysed. It was all she could do to tighten her thighs about his waist, her arms around his neck.

He pushed himself inside her, her breath hitching suddenly, nails carving half-moons into the apex of his shoulders. her muscles adjusted to him, and he waited, gazes locked, unspoken things firing between them, so many things it was almost dizzying. His powerful, sculpted arms were braced against the mattress, granting him enough leverage to move within her. She traced the curve of the muscles of his bicep with her nails, throwing her arms back and grasping fistfuls of her pillow, body arched into his, perfectly curved breasts forced against him. He dragged his fingertips along her ribcage, exploring each indentation and rise, cupping her breast, and giving a firm squeeze that had her biting down on her lip.

Gripping, fumbling, desperate hands couldn't hold on tight enough to one another, stochastic breathing and hitched, broken sentences streamed from lips, minds working toward the same singularity, an identical destination. He seemed to worrying all the right spots, and her sight became spotted with tiny white lights, dancing and swirling in her peripheral vision. Their bodies lubricated by beads of sweat, and the humidity of the room, Vincent drove into to her harder, on her request of course, twining his fingers in hers and gripping them tightly, forced behind her head. Her thighs tightened around him, hips shifting and rolling to meet his thrusts.

She came suddenly, punctuated by a verbal explosion, thankfully masked by a crack of thunder, rapture heightened by the sudden bite Vincent had placed on her shoulder. His neck became imprinted with the indentations of her teeth as she rode each wave of pleasure. Then, Vincent's arm came around her lower back, pulling her into a seated position straddling his thighs.

It seemed he wasn't finished with her yet.

Nasty place to finish? No--- I just felt it was enough. :-D PLEASE Review!


	13. Parachute

Sorry it's been a while guys, it's hard to prioritise when studying! Thank you for sticking with it!

13. Parachute

Gasping for breath in the stifling room, Vincent brought Tifa to her third and final climax, his own muscles spasming as he grit his teeth, silencing his long awaited release. Her body was hot, lubricated by the sweat of their lovemaking beneath him. She was breathing deeply, and rapidly, her eyes closed, limbs trembling about his waist. He pressed his mouth to her forehead, traced a line of delicate kissed down the bridge of her nose, coming to rest at her lips.

"Stop." She giggled against his lips, brushing back damp hair from his face.

"I'll have to whether you want me to or not. I'm exhausted." The sheets were a cool relief against his back, as he pulled her into his arms, drawing the fresh kiss of the sheets over their bodies. "I'd never have thought I'd be here, right here in this room with you, if you'd have asked me when we first met."

She chuckled again, pressing her lips to his chest. "Of course not. But being a man, I bet you've thought about it before."

"Towards the end, yes. I wanted nothing more than to take you in my arms. There never seemed to be a moment for it." They lay in reflective silence for a time, each soothed by the other's breathing.

"Vincent?" She tucked her sheets around her chest, lying on her stomach and gazing up at him wonderingly. " I want to ask you… well lots of things. I know about your past, but only the bad things. I don't really know much about _you_." She was smiling gently, delicate chin resting in her hand. "What's your favourite colour, favourite animal, what were your parents like?"

He felt a tug at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to _know_ him. And there was no double entendre in that. He could understand her reasoning, though. Whatever it was between them, she wanted it just as much as he did.

"I see. Well, we've got about ten hours before we leave for Midgar." He grasped for the watch at the bedside. "Maybe you could learn a thing or two."

The smile she gave him then was unlike any she had given before; amber eyes, so full of innocence and questions, now brimming over with a fusion of sadness and adoration.

They lay side by side, facing one another fingers laced together, asking and answering questions, all the while the candle burning down to the wick, shadows shrinking as the hours drifted by. She felt weightless, and free of worry; they were the only two people in her world right then, and that was all she could ask for.

She learned his favourite colour was actually green (hers was orange), and that as a child, he'd wanted to be an artist. She told him all the tricks she used to play on her martial arts teacher, about the time she'd fallen out of a tree and broken her ankle. He told her about what life was like in the Turks academy, and strangely, she'd asked him questions about how he'd met Lucrecia. She'd listened intently, her eyes fixed on his face.

When the hour approached somewhere close to two in the morning, they'd stopped talking. The rain had abated to a gentle drizzle outside, as the world around them slept. Tifa was nestled into his chest, her ankles tangled with his.

"You should sleep now," He whispered against her hair, combing his fingers through the chocolate strands. "We have a long day ahead."

. ***

Vincent had slipped out of her room shortly after dawn, leaving her sleeping with a gentle smile on her face. His step certainly light than it had been since he could remember, he made a long overdue trip to the showers. He found Cid already in there, though he had to look twice- without those goggles on his head, it was difficult to spot him.

"Morning sunshine," He called gruffly, squinting due to the soap in his hair.

"Don't ever say that again." Vincent replied, tugging off the clothes he had carefully reapplied not minutes before. He wondered if it was written in his face; Cid seemed to be studying it enough.

"Long night? You look beat."

"I suppose you could say that." He turned his head aside, to shield his smile from Cid's scrutiny, stepping under the hot water with a satisfied sigh.

They showered in silence for a while, until Vincent hears the squeak of the valve being shut off as Cid stepped out of the shower, his towel tucked tightly around his waist.

"I'll tell you somethin' Vinnie. It sure sounds like you know how to please a woman." Vincent cringed, his back still turned. One hand braced against the stone wall, he raised his head, peering through his sodden hair at the pilot, who was currently chuckling to himself. "What was it, three times? Geez… I'm never goin' next door to you or Tifa again. Thought I'd get a quiet night, from Barret's snoring…" The pilot turned to leave the showers, muttering more to himself than Vincent, about Cloud mumbling in his sleep.

"Cid?"

"Yup?"

"I… uh… please don't tell anyone. If… if they don't know…"

"Don' worry about it Vinnie! I wouldn't want the girls throwing themselves at you knowin' you're a bit of a stud… 'sides, Tifa looks like she needed it."

The pilot swaggered out of the bathroom, leaving Vincent alone with his beet red face. Moments after the door had closed behind Cid, it reopened again. He turned to find a perplexed Tifa standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her.

"No romantic wake up?" She pouted, shutting herself into the cubicle next to him. He could only see her from the neck upwards, and from the knees.

"You looked peaceful." He muttered, still trying to shake away him embarrassment from Cid's revelation.

"What's wrong with you? And why was Cid so damn cheerful?" Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back as she worked her hair into a lather.

"He knows."

"Knows? About what?"

"Last night. You weren't… quiet, to say the least." Her eyes snapped open, her fingers brushing at the soap that threatened to get into them.

"_Shit_."

"He said he wouldn't say anything. But not that it matters anymore. I couldn't care less."

"I suppose that's your way of saying you don't mind who knows because you care about me?" She winked, rinsing the soap from her hair. The foamy water slid down her shoulders, presumably the length of the rest of her body, then along her calves.

"Of course." He shut off the water, reaching for his towel to roughly dry his face. Running his fingertips over his chin, he realised that perhaps he should shave. But what did it matter? They were only going to ShinRa building. Probably engage in few or many scuffles. Same shit, different day, as Cid would say. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Yeah. You sit on one side of Cid, and I'll take the other. Grope his leg, that might freak him out."

"Excellent idea. I don't know why I didn't think of that."

.***

Aboard the Highwind, things felt as close to normal as they could. Cloud was back, and they were a full team again, minus Aeris of course. She would have liked the airship, Tifa was sure.

The flight to Midgar was a few hours, though the time didn't seem to be spawning any creativity. As far as getting to Midgar, they had no other plan. Land outside the city and blag their way in? Not likely to work. Fly over it? Ok--but then what?

Frustrated, she left the oppressive aggression that was the bridge plus Barret behind, to lose herself in the bowels of the ship. Somehow, she felt that searching the cargo bays and the dusty store rooms would yield more positive results than just yelling at Cloud-- Barrett's current method.

The hum of the engines sounded so distant, in the storage rooms of the lower deck. It was almost soothing to roam the expanse of steel and cardboard boxes, humming incessantly as she tore through them all. Therapeutic, kind of. Though she wasn't feeling so agitated anymore. _That would be the three orgasms you had last night_, _Tifa_, she told herself with a grin. It had been long overdue; she'd liked him from the start. After that, it had been easy to just become closer to him, to get to know him. To get to know that he wanted her too. Then it hadn't been so difficult.

It saddened her though, to think she'd finally found someone with mutual interest in her, and their time was going to be severely limited.

"Any luck?" As if he'd known she was thinking about him, Vincent appeared at the doorway of the room she was currently searching in, or rather, the room she had intended to search. Her thought-train had gotten the better of her, and she had been stood before the tiny window, peering out at the changing landscape rushing beneath them.

"No. Net yet." She placed her hands on her hips, blowing her fringe out of her face. She'd gotten a little over zealous with a few boxes, and had worked up quite a sweat.

Vincent became all the more conscious of Tifa's heavy breathing. They stood a few paces apart, not really sure where to look, both avoiding each other. But it hung in the air, thick enough to cut with something blunt, and Vincent decided words were sharp enough.

"Tifa…" He caught her gaze, and that was an invite in itself. They each took equal steps closer, hands finding parts to hold onto, lips meeting hesitantly. His stomach was about to drop to the floor, her fingertips soothing the back of his neck, her shaking breath caressing his face as she withdrew, dragging her teeth over her dry lips. They couldn't stop now, they'd stepped over the line, and he'd be damned if he was to turn back now.

She was a little shorter than him, and he couldn't quite reach the parts of her that he would have liked to. Hooking his hand under her knee, toned thighs suddenly clamped around his waist, he placed her atop the nearest surface; some paint-spattered shelf littered with the occasional metal canister. Blinding fumbling for purchase as his lips traced her earlobe, she knocked some aside, sending them clattering to the floor. The sound was almost too loud, this far away from the interference of the engines, and they paused to listen.

Thudding footsteps, coming down the corridor towards them. He let go of her immediately, crossing to the other side of the room to busy himself in the cupboards, and Tifa slid from her perch, dropping to her knees to 'examine' the shelves inside the cabinet on which she had been sat.

Cid burst into the room not half a second later, scowling. On noticing Tifa and Vincent innocently searching the room, however, he broke into a grin. "Thought we had rats."

"No. Just us, I'm afraid." Tifa shrugged, fumbling inside a box full of spanners.

"Well, holler if you find anything I can eat or smoke."

"Oh!" Both Cid and Vincent turned at Tifa's sudden exclamation, brows raised. "I think I've just found a way into Midgar."

Cid eyed the large dusty canvas packs with scrutiny, though the gleam in his eyes was hard to miss. "I fuckin' love this woman…" He muttered to himself, giving her a congratulatory slap on the back.

,* * * * *

She stood on the Highwind's upper deck, her knuckles white as she gripped the rails tightly. The ground looked so _far_ below them, currently hard reddish-rock. Whereas soon, it would be a sprawling, grey metropolis; the horizon was jagged with the high rise buildings of ShinRa HQ, and the surrounding reactors.

"I'm not so sure about this…" She muttered to Vincent, stood quietly beside her.

"There's no need to worry. Once we get there, and you've jumped, it'll be the easiest thing to do to pull that tag."

"Yeah, because it's the only thing stopping me from _dying_." Vincent chuckled softly, his arms folded across his chest.

"There are other ways to fly," He told her more seriously, strapping his parachute into place across his torso and abdomen. She chose not to respond to his comment, though she passed a furtive glance at the golden key dangling about his neck. She only hoped it didn't come to that.

,* * * * *

The ship struggled to gain altitude above the towering structure of ShinRa HQ. Five hundred feet was all they could manage; with the unpredictability of the winds, there was a possibility they would not land as close to each other as they would perhaps like; the plan was to rendezvous by the sector something or other station and infiltrate the sewers. Glamorous.

Tifa gripped the railing as though she were welded to it, staring down at the blur of grey and black below. She wondered if Cloud would fall through the roof of a church again.. and if anyone would be there to wake him. Shaking that thought from her head, she swung her legs over the sides, still holding on tightly, glancing up briefly to see her companions doing the same.

"Ok everyone, on the count of three." Cloud shouted over the rushing sound of the propellers, working hard to maintain their altitude. "1! 2! 3!"

Stupidly, and amazingly, she was letting go, the air rushing up to greet her-- not to mention solid ground. Holding her breath, and counting slowly to five before she would pull her toggle, to avoid being sucked into the Highwind's turbines, she felt that perhaps it was _too_ long a time. She could make out the flashing lights on the plate, she could see the railway line snaking up and around the central column…

At five, she pulled, ripping it across, then forwards as she had been told. There was a fractional delay that seemed to last forever, before the parachute ripped out from the pack, the ropes giving a strong tug, yanking her body upright as the air caught, slowing down her descent.

She even managed to stay upright as she landed, her knees buckling only slightly as her boots made contact with the concrete. Fighting to free herself from the canvas, she shrugged off the pack, and pulled the goggles from her forehead. Looking around her, she realised she'd landed in the middle of a sort of play area for children, though it was empty now, this late. Not that the slums was a safe place for children to play these days.

Glancing up, she could see Meteor's angry glare, even through the plate. No wonder Midgar seemed empty.

Making sure her dark jacket was zipped up, the donated handgun in place at her thigh, and her PHS already in hand, she started to jog towards the main street, dialling Vincent's number.

"_Yes_?"

"You made it."

"_I can see you, I'm a few hundred yards ahead_." She slammed her phone shut, grinning despite herself at the sight of him. She was still exhilarated from the rushing air, still battling her inertia. And somehow, she wanted to do it again.

With Vincent, was Yuffie, and Cloud, the latter currently on the phone to Barrett trying to confirm his position. Cid had stayed to pilot the ship; he was more adept at it, keeping it steady for them while they had jumped, and of course, Red was not made for Parachutes.

They were all dressed in black, made to blend into the shadows; gear Tifa had dug out in her earlier searching. Tight fitted black tops, cargo pants, lace up boots, with all sorts of harnesses and clips that she couldn't begin to think of uses for. Vincent had known some, of course. He'd found some rope, and climbing clips, in case they needed to slide down the face of a building for example. She'd chuckled then; how spy-like.

"Barrett, I can see you!" Cloud waved his arm, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance.

"Great, now we have to go through the sewers?" Yuffie wrinkled her nose, eyeing up a nearby manhole with distaste.

"It's the best way to get to the central column," Vincent nodded, crouching and using a metal hook to lift the heavy metal cover away, revealing rusted ladder rungs. "Ladies first?"

"I think not," Yuffie laughed. "You first, sewer rat."

They followed Vincent down into the dark, the wet, and stench, the slimy brick wall illuminated before them by the torch clutched in Vincent's teeth. The water wasn't deep enough to reach their ankles, though Vincent warned that it could get deeper further on.

His wide torch beam lead the way, and it seemed to Tifa that she would never remember her way out. It's a good job they had an escape plan, of sorts. True Avalanche fashion-- get there, worry about it later. Murky waters swirled beneath them, a cacophony of drips and trickling masking their footsteps; the only things that would be alerted to their presence were the rats, though they scuttled way into the shadows at the sight of their strange human visitors.

Vincent would occasionally stop at the foot of a ladder, climbing to check their current location. They seemed to be steadily heading up hill; Tifa found that strange, though of course a city such a Midgar was far from normal. Perhaps if the slums weren't in such squalor, as she knew from experience, Midgar could have been a great city; what with the complex engineering of the ascending train line up and around the plate, the technology of the ID scanners, and the strange uphill sewage systems. But it wasn't a great city. It was a city that was first in line to be obliterated by Meteor.

At last, Vincent called down from the top of one ladder, informing them they could reach the plate from up top. He helped them all out; Barrett seemed to struggle, with his wide shoulders, wriggling out of the tiny round hole.

They were somewhere in the central column that was for sure, or rather at the base of it. Tifa could see where Vincent had seen their access route; a hole in the metal plating. On closer inspection, it seemed to be some form of an escape route, with swirling stairs that lined the internal circular framework, winding both down and up. She wondered what was really down there, in the bowels of the Midgar structure. _That_ was something for another day, or rather, another era in time, when the ruins of the cities would be populated again. If the planet survived, that is.

It took fifteen minutes of huffing to reach the top, where a single metal door separated them from the darkness of the stairs, and whatever lay beyond. Vincent pressed his ear to it. "If I recall, this door leads to the back of a cargo hold. From there, you used to be able to gain access to the central elevators."

"Well, let's hope it hasn't changed since then, old man." Barrett muttered gruffly, ushering him aside to shove the metal door open. The heavy hinges groaned as the bulk of the door shifted, revealing, as Vincent had foretold, the grey expanse of a disused cargo bay. It seemed deserted.

"Reckon ShinRa've been layin' off staff?" Barrett chuckled dryly to himself, still aiming his gun arm regardless. Caution had always been his chosen weapon.

"Possibly. Who wants to work for the super corporation who in a matter of weeks will only be dust, like everything else? " Vincent answered.

"Yuffie, you come with me," Cloud said, as they crouched behind the cover of a large empty shipping crate. "Barret and Tifa, you'll go with Vincent. Find Scarlett, Heidegger, Hojo. _Alive_--" he added, with a glimpse in Vincent's direction. "Then the president. Deal with the Turks if you have to. Rendezvous in the office."

Tifa watched as Cloud and Yuffie darted across to a door in the side of the building; inside there were flights of more stairs, which would inevitably lead them right to the 30th floor. Barrett, Vincent and she were to find another way in. She switched her PHS to silent, unholstering her hand gun and checking the magazine was firmly in place.

Vincent gave her a small smile as he did the same.

"I feel like skinnin' some Turk _ass_." Barrett laughed, tapping the shaft of his metal arm menacingly. "And I ain't going easy on 'em."

"If we find Hojo, I doubt he'd be much use," Tifa whispered to Vincent, as she followed him around the periphery of the building, falling silent as he took down a solitary guard using his laser guided silenced pistol.

"Be that as it may, my retribution can wait." He replied as the guard crumpled to the ground, his jaw set.

"I owe Scarlett a slap or two, if I recall rightly." Tifa's fist creaked in her gloves as she gripped her gun tightly.

Vincent turned to her, wearing a wry smile. "Then we can all repay our debts."

I have to apologise if the new paragraphs seem a little odd-- for some reason, my chapter breaks always get removed these days by the site, and I'm not sure why! Sorry it's been a while, I always find it hard to follow up a sex scene. A bit of a theme, actually….

Review!


	14. Gunfights, Compromise, and Truth

I really couldn't think of a name for this chapter. Urgh.

I have where I want to go in this, but it's getting REAL hard to get there! Please review and offer suggestions. (Mainly so I can do the eventual opposite.)

JJ

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14. Gunfights, Compromise, and Truth

The fire fight was like a dance; a dance of which he was a master. He dodged bullets with ease, flying from cover to cover, taking down his targets twice as fast as Barrett and Tifa combined. He'd instructed her to stay back; her aim wasn't bad, but he didn't want to risk placing her out in the open. Barrett's firing was haphazard and indiscriminate; it didn't matter what it was, he'd shoot it. His rapid flurried bursts of fire added to the chaos, elevated the panic in their enemy. It only took a few minutes until the ring of the final shot faded, empty shells tinkling onto tiles.

Shards of glass crunched underfoot as he crossed over to where he knew Tifa to be crouched. "Clear." He called, exchanging a brief smile with her as she resurfaced.

"That was exhilarating," she admitted, dusting herself down. "Though I think you should leave some windows intact Barrett. It wouldn't do to compromise the structural integrity of the building while we're still in it."

"They have to know we're here by now," Vincent stated unnecessarily, crouching by the corpse of a ShinRa marine to take a handful of magazines from his belt. They'd be of little use to him, now he was dead. "All of their forces will be concentrated at the top floors, I'd imagine."

"Won't it be a little silly to go in from the bottom?" Tifa mused, eyeing up the towering glass column before her; within it, she could see flight after flight of steel stairs, zigzagging upwards out of her focus.

"Hopefully Yuffie and Cloud will make it up before then, and create a distraction," Vincent replied, craning his neck to briefly appreciate the vastness of the building's interior, the complexity of its architecture.

"I say we take the lifts at least some of the way," Tifa stepped over a body, heading in the direction of the elevators. "Don't want to tire ourselves out before we've even given them some real hell," She cracked her knuckles. "I hope I see Reno, I feel like sinking my fist into his face, too."

They stepped into the closed space of the elevator, selecting floor 30 as their destination. They kept their weapons trained on the doors, should the elevator be called to a stop at any other floor, though it seemed their ascent was not to be interrupted so far.

The doors slid open slowly, a polite _ding_ omitting from the console to announce their arrival at floor 30. They cautiously stepped out into a small waiting area, and Tifa almost chuckled at the sound of smooth jazz music playing in the background. How terribly cliché. The space they were in was lined with identical doors, though the only one that stood out was the door directly ahead of them; larger, double doors, with frosted glass panels set into the wood, though they were too far away to see inside.

"I think we're at the science labs," Tifa muttered, circling around an array of potted plants and standard issue waiting room chairs.

Vincent's grip tightened around his pistol. "I know it well," his words were sour in his mouth.

Tifa chose to say nothing more. They made their way cautiously towards the double doors at the end of the corridor; a sign above depicted a stairs symbol, and Vincent figured they'd have to work their way up floor by floor, unless they happened to chance upon a key card. Though by the looks of things, the place was deserted. It'd be pure luck to stumble across an authorised employee now.

Their passage through this floor was unobstructed- Vincent had conducted a brief search for a particular crazed-scientist, but his search had been fruitless—save for an abandoned card key atop a work bench which allowed them passage through the next two floors. Not wanting to waste too much time, they'd pressed on. The next few levels of the building were science-related, each one apparently more secret and classified than the last. With each flight of stairs they ascended, his chance of encountering Hojo heightened. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Floor 34. Voices could be heard ahead, a few of which Vincent did not recognise, though it seemed Tifa and Barrett knew them well enough.

"Turks," Barrett spat, grinding his teeth together menacingly.

"Ask questions first, shoot later," Tifa told him firmly. "They might have access codes for the upper floors."

"Don't see what we need 'em alive for that," Barrett smirked dangerously, his back now pressed to the wall, out of view of the glass windows ahead.

"It's a conference room in there. A dead end… We've got the advantage." Vincent hissed, agreeing with Tifa. "We burst in- in 1…2…3!"

He kicked open the doors, startling the two men and one woman within who had previously been involved in a heated argument.

"Shit!" Vincent assumed that must be the redhead in question. And his hair was _very_ red; spiking this way and that, a direct contrast to green eyes and pale skin- all clashing horribly with the all-too familiar navy suit. "Ah! Lockheart- so nice to see you, as always." He eyed her black fitted garments in a manner that made Vincent's blood boil.

"Shut it, ginger." She scowled, squinting down her gun barrel at him.

"Since when have you been the firearm-type, babe?" He chuckled, blatantly unfazed by the threat they represented to him.

"Since now." She cocked her gun in the same instant he drew that damn nightstick of his. Damn, she could remember the last time she'd been hit with _that_- muscle convulsions and stinging burn had lasted for hours afterward. It sparked blue with static and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Elena, the blonde female Turk was eyeing Vincent with interest. "He is a new one, yes?" Pale blue eyes considered him from beneath her feathery blonde fringe, her gun trained on Barrett. "Interesting."

"You're outnumbered," Vincent said cooly. "Nobody has to die. Just give us what we want and we won't kill you."

"So sure of yourself, huh?" Elena chuckled. "He's obviously never met a Turk before."

It was Vincent's turn to laugh."I used to be one. It's pretty clear standards have dropped since then."

"It hurts!" Reno winced at his words, taking the moment of distraction to lash out with his nightstick. She thought about shooting, but her instincts sided with her training first. Thanking the gods she was wearing rubber soled boots, she kicked the sparking weapon from his hands, her fingertips sent into a little spasm regardless of her protection.

Suddenly both were weaponless, their respective pieces of metal sent scuttling across the ruby carpets, out of reach and sight. In a moment of almost comic realisation, she locked gazes with the red head, flashing him a sweet smile before drawing back her arm and driving her fist into his face. Unbalanced, clutching his bleeding nose, she took the opportunity to connect her foot with his stomach, winding him, sending him to the ground in a heap. Elena had tried to shoot Vincent, though that had become her final, fatal mistake. Tifa couldn't see the blonde anymore.

Reno's partner faltered, his hands raised defensively before him- for Rude was a fighter like her. Vincent aimed his gun at his head.

"No." She said loudly, taking both the bald Turk and Vincent by surprise. "I made a promise."

Rude exhaled deeply. "What are you doing, Tifa?"

"I'm trying to stop the President from making a big mistake."

"It was Scarlet's idea, to fire the gun," The Turk told her, glancing out of the window. The metal hulking form of the cannon could be seen, tiny lights flashing on and off along the length of the immense metal construction. "Do you think the president is going to listen?"

"I think he will. We have a much better proposal for him." At this, he raised a brow, surveying her over the rim of his dark glasses.

"If you don't mind, I will join you as far as the President's suite. I don't agree with what Scarlet is doing. Believe it or not, I don't want to die just yet."

"Well isn't this nice," Barrett grumbled, flexing his immense arm muscles. "Let's just get over this sappy show of unification and get the hell on with it!"

"Where can we find Hojo, Heidegger and Scarlett?" Tifa asked him as they strode from the conference room. Rude had his key card pinched between his fingers, read to allow them access to the next floor.

"They will be where they are always to be found; sniffing around the President's backside." Rude snorted indignantly.

"Well, we can kill several birds with one stone." Vincent gripped his gun tighter.

"What exactly are you planning, Lockheart?" Rude turned to her, his eyes hidden by his trademark dark glasses. "For what good it's going to do…"

"I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise," she responded coolly, nudging him through the door he had just opened for them. "Keep moving or I might change my mind."

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"For what reason have you stormed my building this time, Avalanche?" The president was by all means irked, though it seemed he had accepted his fate, seated at his desk, slumped in his high-backed chair. Vincent's team had encountered Cloud's on the way, and they had stormed the room together. Rude had scanned them in, his arms raised in submission as he stepped into the huge open space that was Rufus's office.

"You're making a mistake, Rufus," Cloud had stepped forward, pointing one gloved hand accusingly. "Fire that cannon, and meteor will hit us like a tonne of bricks."

"I'd say a lot more than a Tonne, Cloud," Scarlet hissed angrily, her arms folded across her ample chest. "More like a few hundred thousand."

"You seem to know a lot about it-" Tifa interjected, taking a few directed steps closer to her blonde arch enemy. "But if you'd bothered to do your research properly, you would see that the meteor is not moving. As long as Sephiroth stays in that crater, gathering his strength, he won't budge it."

"Which is why we have to strike first!" Scarlet's face coloured, her fists curling tightly.

"- you make a valid point." Rufus said softly. All the assembled members of Avalanche turned to him. "We should use the time we have wisely."

"And we've got just the thing that might work." Cloud spoke again, all eyes on him. "But, the thing is, we're uh… gunna have to work together." The president narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. "We have the pilot, and you've got the funds. We've got explosives, you've got a rocket."

"This is absurd!" Scarlett groaned, stalking across the marbled floors, her heels clicking. "That rocket is a hunk of metal."

"… and wouldn't be much of a loss, either. I see where you're going with this, and I like it so far." Scarlet whirled to stare with ire at her president. "We send it up there, and blow up meteor. Even if it fails, it's a good show of solidarity to the public…"

"Tha's right, think of yer image to the last moment." Barrett grunted to himself.

"It could take a week to fuel the thing, but it just might work. I'll expect Cid Highwind and whoever else wants to go along with it at Rocket town in seven days time. We ask for no payment, and we will co-operate with you. Do we have a deal?"

"Done." Cloud nodded curtly. "You fire that cannon only when we know it's the last option we have. If meteor is out of the way, then we can take care of the rest of your mess."

"Sephiroth was way before my time, I can assure you."

"Where is the scientist?" Vincent cut in curtly.

"He took off when the building was breached." The note of dislike was evident in the young sable-haired man's voice. "If you find him, do what you want. He creeps the hell out of me."

"With pleasure."

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"It feels weird just being let go, doesn't it?" Tifa's voice interrupted his musings as they waited out on the helipad for the Highwind to drop its ladders down. The turbulence from the propellers sending her hair whirling about her face. "Hey, you're still mad about not finding Hojo, aren't you?"

"I guess." He looked down at the standard issue steel-toe capped, black lace up boots he wore, identical to Tifa's. "But I'll find him. He can't run forever."

"No, but he sure will try." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There are worse things than death Vincent. He is an old man; he's probably scared out of his wits, knowing you're after him." He took a little comfort out of that.

"Hey, wait!" Cloud's foot was on the bottom rung of the ladder when a man with clipped shoulder length black hair came jogging over. He had a smart goatee beard and wore a royal-blue suit.

"Do we know you?" Tifa frowned, turning to address him. She felt a little disconcerted that he smiled upon hearing her voice.

"I know you, but we've never met. My name is Reeve. I… I control Cait Sith."

"What?" Tifa tucked her wild hair behind her ears, frowning slightly. The she did something Vincent wasn't prepared for; she slapped the man hard across the face. "That's for stealing the keystone. If you'd have no stolen that… things might have been different." With one last glowering stare, she whirled around and began to ascend the rope ladder with surprising agility.

Vincent raised an eyebrow at the man, who was currently rubbing his reddened cheek. "God. I'm not sure which side I should be on… She's certainly feisty." The man did not seem angry, and Vincent was treated to the same recognition he had shown Tifa. "You must be Vincent." They shook hands.

"Look, we should get going before Rufus changes his mind," Cloud yelled over the sounds of the straining Highwind engines. "Are you coming with us, or not?"

Reeve grinned and jogged over to the ladder, his ruby cheek forgotten. Vincent sighed a little before following.

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The atmosphere on the Highwind was livelier and more optimistic than it had been in a long while. Tifa felt it was easier to breathe now, without the threat of the cannon being fired. A part of her was afraid that Rufus might go back on his word, or at least it had been, before Rude had hacked into the systems and disabled the override system. There was no way Scarlett was getting her way on this.

Cid of course, was on cloud nine. He was going to realise his dream of going into space, with the added bonus of potentially saving the world. All that was left to do was decide who would go and who would stay. Rufus had forwarded documents stating, amongst other things, that only three other people should accompany Cid onto the Rocket.

Red had shaken his great head and declared his desire to remain grounded. "I was never destined to leave this planet."

Barrett had expressed a desire to remain behind- he wanted to use the time to keep an eye on ShinRa and the crater whilst Avalanche could otherwise be distracted. Tifa also suspected he would also pay a visit to Marlene in Kalm, too while he had the chance. Reeve intended to redeem himself fully by reversing his spying role, and turn his attentions to ShinRa. He was ever suspicious of Scarlett, he told a scowling Tifa, and he would not allow himself to become complacent. It would be foolish, he warned them, to underestimate her ambition.

"With this travel sickness? I don't feel like watching my own vomit float about—do you?" Yuffie was staying.

That left Cloud, Tifa, and Vincent.

Cloud wanted to go, of course. He was their leader, somehow, and he wanted to be present for the whole journey.

Tifa asked for a little time to think about it, though she was already leaning towards going. When would she ever get another opportunity like this one? Life was so short, uncertainly so, and she didn't want to regret missing out. Even in the event that something could go horribly wrong—what would she be missing out on? Waiting around for a little while long for Sephiroth to kill her?

Vincent had accepted right away. Secretly he shared in Cid's enthusiasm for the launch—going where no man dared to go before? Oh, he dared alright. Just thinking about space and the vastness of the universe made him appreciate what little value his insignificant existence held for him.

"You do know that sex in space is impossible right?" Cid told him with a smug grin one evening over a hand of cards. Everyone else had retired to bed, leaving only the Pilot and himself on the lamp-lit bridge.

"I'd like to think that you know this only because you read it somewhere. Not because you actually tried it."

"Guilty. I do read occasionally." The Pilot shifted in his seat, rubbing his aching neck as he scrutinised his hand. "I'll raise ya five, Valentine. Reckon Tifa'll come along?"

Vincent considered his question carefully. Amidst the recent chaos, his conversations with Tifa had been brief and anything other than that even more so. He imagined she didn't want to risk not being able to return to face her enemies, and exact her revenge. "I cannot say. Perhaps I should find out, though. We are due to fly in a few days time."

"I hear ya." Cid set down his cards only to slip a cigarette between his lips, his haggard face illuminated by the flare of his match. "For all the teasin' I done, I didn' say a word to anyone else. For what it's worth, I think you two are good fer each other. I don' really know anyone well enough to tell 'em what to do."

"There hasn't been a lot of time, has there." He agreed, not really seeing his cards. Time... So little of it left.

"Not much," The pilot admitted, taking up his cards again and puffing smoke away from the table. "But enough, right?" He gave a throaty chuckle, winking as he caught Vincent's eye.

Vincent did not return the smile, instead tossing his hand down on the table face up. He had been bluffing. "No. Not enough. There is never enough."

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The ship swayed gently in its docking position, subjected to a strong easterly wind. Vincent's fingers trailed along the plated walls of the gangways, the ship creaking and groaning around him. He passed door after door leading into the small cabins that each of the Avalanche members occupied at night. He passed Yuffie's, Cloud's, and even his own. He passed the empty room that stood between Barrett's and Tifa's, before pausing at the latter.

He hesitated, arm raised, poised to rap gently on the door. She would be sleeping no doubt. But time was spectre that loomed in the back of his mind, both taunting him and encouraging him. He shouldn't waste it. The handle was cool in his palm as he turned it, resisting only a little due to rusted hinges.

The interior of the room was all dark hulking shapes, edges illuminated by an oval of faint moonlight penetrating the cabin's sole window. He had been right to assume she was sleeping. Her face was relaxed, but by no means untroubled. As he drew closer, eyes adjusting to the darkness, he could distinguish the tiny fluctuations in her features- the slightest tremor of her brow, the twitch of her lashes. All telltale signs of troubled sleep. Signs he knew too well.

How had it come to this? He was into his late twenties, an ex-Turk, a human experiment, and she a proud and beautiful innocent, victim to life, barely into her twenties. How had they come together like this? Despite what oceans may separate them, he knew they were bound together though endurance—through hardships, through time, and through pain. They had survived. They had fought, and fought hard. Only to be faced with the promise of the same end. That unified them, but also kept them apart.

Of course, it was a hard thing for anyone to have to accept, let alone one as young and as full of promise as she. He wondered if she would have married, or had children (the doubtful part of his mind pointedly kept him out of his imaginings of her future), and what she would have become. She was still growing, after all. Hell, they all were. There was always some lesson to learn, always something else to be done.

Now, the lesson was haste, without sightlessness, foresight without the imprint of false hope, and honesty without fear.

Her hair was soft beneath his fingertips, sliding between them as would the finest of silk. Her cheek was warm, skin possessing the barest hint of moisture, in the cramped, poorly ventilated living space. The mattress sank under his weight as he perched there beside her, fingers smoothing away the frown, and rousing her gently from her disturbed slumber.

"Vincent?" Confused and bleary-eyed, she gazed up at him, her warm hand curling around his. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to see your face," He admitted, offering her a weak smile. "I fear the passage of days is too swift for my liking, and our time together is scarce at best."

"You have noticed, I was afraid of that."

"Noticed?"

"It's just a fear thing, again." She scoffed at herself shifting aside to allow him space to fit beside her. He settled facing up at the ceiling, fingers interlaced over his chest. "The more I like you, the more we are together I... I become angry that it's only going to be taken away."

"If we are together until the end, we will always be so. Or at least, that is my understanding." He gave an indifferent shrug which did not suffice to lessen his discomfort. He knew where this was going to go, and as afraid as he was, perhaps it was all for the best.

"That's a nice thought," She turned towards him, propping herself up on her elbow, watching his unshifting expression carefully. "I'm sorry for shutting you out. It's not fair of me to take something from you and try to give it back."

"I understand completely. I am guilty also." He sighed heavily. Tifa tugged his arm aside to better nestle herself against him. Her cheek against his shoulder and her fingers laced with his, she felt at ease.

"I want you to know I don't regret anything if that's what you might have been thinking." He remained silent, not wanting to admit he had toyed with that explanation more than once before now. "I think I will go with you on the rocket," She glanced up at him, meeting his ruby stare.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I couldn't let you go alone with Cloud could I?" At this, he laughed. "But seriously, I wanted to experience it with you. And maybe it could help us forget, even if it's for a little while."

A comfortable silence settled upon them like a blanket, and it wasn't long before Tifa felt sleep tugging at her eyelids once more. It felt good to nestle against someone, whose arms felt strong enough to protect her, enough to hold them both steady.

God, she was doing it. Something she'd tried to convince herself was a bad idea, that would distract her from her true aims, but instead, it was making her stronger, more defiant. It was getting harder to resist it.

She was falling in love with him.

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First one in a long time. I have literally just written this, and wanted to get it uploaded to apologise for such a long wait. Next chapter is space travel!


	15. Ground Control

Yeah, I know it's been a while with this one, but I think I am only a few chapters away from closing... And yes, I've said that before now... cough.

Anyway, please read and review.

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15. Ground Control

The week preceding the much anticipated launch passed in a blur; Tifa had spent a day with Marlene, a day at the hot springs, and the remaining days in training, to ensure she was in maximal physical condition for the journey. Her muscles ached, though she felt she was as ready as ever. She'd also managed to grab a couple of hours in the library at Cosmo, preparing herself for what was to come. Facts about zero G, thrust and oxygen tanks whizzed around her mind until it was almost impossible to process anymore information.

In the hotel that night, hidden away in her bedroom, she tried to relax her mind. Though it was dark out, she knew the rocket was there, looming, ever present, no longer tilted dangerously to one side, courtesy of a ShinRa crane. It was ready. She was ready, or at least, as ready as she could be.

A tap at her door interrupted her buzzing thoughts, though she glanced up without surprise and answered the knock without hesitation.

"Are you alright?" Vincent's voice was lowered, an adjustment due to the thinness of the walls of the hotel ShinRa had courteously provided for them.

"I'm going into space," she replied rather moonily, drifting back towards her bed and sinking on the creaky mattress rather unceremoniously. "I'm like the proverbial young boy. How many people do you think will have been as lucky as this?"

Vincent only smiled, crossing over to seat himself beside her, pale fingers reaching out and gripping hers. "When I was a child, space travel wasn't really on the forebrains of the scientists, back then. So I can't say I ever dreamt about it. Though regardless, it excites me."

"Hm. I hadn't thought of that."

She frowned, allowing her body to fall back against the rather starchy sheets, staring up habitually at the ceiling. After a moment, she felt Vincent's weight shift, as he took up the space beside her. His fingertips found their way into her hair, rubbing soothingly at her scalp. Leaning into his touch, almost purring, she turned onto her side, cheek pressed against her forearm. Gazing up at him from beneath her lashes, she found him apparently lost in thought, his face averted from her.

"Something on your mind, too?" she probed, shuffling a little closer to him. He seemed to snap out of it for a moment, the dark of his pupil constricting as he focused on her face.

"You seemed to be such a positive woman once," He frowned a little. "Now I see a woman riddled with doubts and confused by her own misgivings and negative notions. But if you feel it needs to be said, I shall not deter you."

"It's hard to be positive when all there is between us and the end of the world is a hunk of metal rigged with nuclear explosives. Reassuring, maybe, but still ... I'm scared. Imagine that? After everything we've seen, I'm scared." She gave a soft chuckle. "I just… there's nothing I can do to change it, but part of me is afraid that it—"

So young, so naïve, and so deserving of a fate better than what she feared.

His fingertips pressed to her lips silenced her, and his expression was as unreadable to her as it had been the day they had met. His lips were a firm, thin line, though his brow was smooth, devoid of any frown. Those ruby eyes, sharp and piercing burned into her. She chewed on her lip.

"I know you are scared—it's ok to be. Even I'm scared. But know this— I'll be here for you until the end, whether that end is twenty-four hours, weeks, or decades away. Just like you wanted." He closed the space between them, pressing his lips to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose, before cupping her face in his hands. "I'm afraid to admit this to you, because of what I've been through, but I've grown so much because of you. You have made me the person I am, now. I just hope there will be more time, because I want to know what I could become in the future."

Her eyes widened just a little as her mind ran away with the implications of his words. Yes, perhaps it had been just a sex thing, at one time, but now, it was something else. She needed him around, she depended on him. She loved him.

His lips were a brand on hers, his touch the most effective remedy for all ills—the thin walls, the uncomfortable beds, and the impending launch no longer mattered, so long as she was beside him.

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The Rocket soon-to-be airborne spaceship loomed before them, a towering metal structure piercing the hazy mists of the morning. Her muscles felt a little stiff, courtesy of a poor-quality mattress, though otherwise, she was physically as prepared as she could be.

After a quick physical, they were dressed in several layers of thermals, completed by rather garish orange overalls. Then Cloud, Vincent and Tifa boarded the vessel along with the party of ShinRa scientists that were to accompany them, including Shera. Cid had been awake for hours, Shera informed them, and was currently overseeing some calibrations that she had been banned from carrying out.

The interior of the ship was a maze of ugly grey steel that seemed rather outdated; bearing in mind the more recent technology Tifa had seen belonging to ShinRa. It didn't matter though—It would make it, hopefully, and even then, it didn't need to come back. That was a task for the escape pods.

"These suits serve only to protect you from the cold, and also from the heat of re-entry," One of the crew told them, ushering them down narrow corridors lined with wiring and pipes. "You will need to remain seated until we enter the earth's orbit. Only then will you be able to leave your seats."

"Will we float?" Tifa questioned.

"Yes. Zero Gravity will come into effect as soon as we leave the atmosphere. You must remember to use the handrails provided. Do not remove your suits, and when the alarm sounds, you must immediately make your way to the escape pods, as indicated by the blue lighting in the walkways. Understood?"

It took another hour for them to be strapped into their seats. Tifa found herself barely able to move, her arms tightly bound to her sides, her knees buckled in also. "Did I mention I have a fear of being tied to a chair?" She muttered to the two men, wriggling her fingertips agitatedly.

"I'll have to remember that," Vincent muttered in response, while Cloud chuckled to at his side.

"Gee, thanks." She rolled her eyes. The room in which they were seated had no windows- structural flaws, Shera had told them. They only really existed in the world of science fiction, though Cid's observation deck bore a large and incredibly thick glass panel, offering a panoramic view of outer space. Tifa planned on paying him a flying visit. Literally.

"_Alright kids. This time it's for real. Everything is ok, we are good to go. Initiating launch sequence in t-minus thirty seconds."_

"I'm so going to bully him for this when we get back." She whispered to Vincent. He only smiled, any reply lost over the rumbling of the engines, firing up below. He reached for her hand, their restricted mobility only allowing them to link a few fingers. Cloud pointedly gazed ahead, though she knew he was doing his best to hide his smile.

"_All systems go, launch commence in 3…2…1."_

The noise was deafeningly loud, the thrust pushing her chest against her back with incredible force. She felt a swooping feeling in her stomach, glad that her breakfast had at least passed through it, and would not make a reappearance. Vincent's hand gripped tighter. The time it took for the incredible weight to be removed, replaced by weightlessness, seemed incredibly short. She heard an uproar of cheers and whoops, announcing their safe arrival into space, out of the Earth's atmosphere.

"We did it." Cloud sighed, his face gleaming with sweat. It seemed he'd never really gotten over his travel sickness, though she didn't blame him. Her insides felt liquefied, too.

"_Estimated time of impact, two hours. Unbuckle yourself and stretch your legs, guys." _Cid's voice announced over the speakers.

Tifa giggled at the strange sensation of nothingness- raising her arm ever so slowly to try and release herself from her bindings. Without gravity, any movement was clumsy and deliberate. After fighting with the seemingly endless number of straps and buckles, Tifa managed to free herself. Her body drifted up and out of the seat, randomly drifting in any direction, unless she applied some force to propel herself forwards. She release a choked snort when she saw Cloud literally swimming through the air to try and move, though she soon realised that it was actually the best way to get anywhere- unless she shoved off of the walls with her feet.

"This is amazing..." Vincent said rather breathlessly as he drifted by and above her head. "But rather frustrating."

"I agree." Cloud huffed from his position floating in the corner. "I hope I don't accidentally push a button or something."

"I'm going to find Cid," Tifa announced, kicking off the ceiling to propel herself toward the door. "There's no way I'm going to let him have all the best views."

Traversing the corridors was a lot simpler than she thought it would be, using the handrails to pull her body forwards- though using the wall to stop wasn't necessarily a good idea, nor is building up so much speed that you have no other choice, she reflected, rubbing at her now aching shoulder.

Punching the door release button, she itched to see what waited beyond the window, in the vast nothingness of space. She inched her way through the door as it hissed open, taking care not to repeat her earlier mistake- she daren't think what might happen if she should accidentally push a button in _here_.

"Welcome to the bridge, Ma'am." An officer saluted her, drifting sentry at the door. "Come to enjoy the view?"

"Aye, sir." She saluted the young man back, grinning at the appearance of a flush upon his face. Though nothing could distract her from the sight before her for long.

It was a dark she couldn't even comprehend- something so deep and endless it almost rendered her nauseous. The Earth was like a glowing jewel suspended in space, the glowering inferno of the sun just peeking around the curve of the equator. She'd seen pictures before- emerald green, and azure blue- but nothing could have prepared her for the real thing. She blocked out the radio chatter and radar beeps of the bridge and allowed the depthless nothing of space to engulf her. Her face almost pressed to the glass, she could almost be out there, lost amongst the black.

Somewhere around the other side of the earth was the meteor. Part of her longed to see it, in all it's terrible beauty. She never feared something that she could face, something she could stand up to. Though inside, she realised that she never would be able to outmatch it. For now though, she was content simply studying the star spangled emptiness, and appreciating it.

"It's really something isn't it?" Cloud was at her side, disrupting her thoughts.

"What? Oh- yeah, it's really something alright." She turned slightly to face her companion, her body drifting slightly of mark due to momentum.

"I wish Aeris could've seen this." He said softly, crystal blue eyes fixed on the distant stars speckling the darkness.

"She would have loved to see it, Cloud." She was almost talking over her shoulder, huffily trying to right herself. Cloud chuckled softly, reaching out to steady her.

"But I'm glad we got to see it. Avalanche conquering space, huh? Who'd've thought!"

"So you're definitely part of it now? Avalanche I mean?" Tifa gave a small laugh as she reminisced. "I remember when you first came to work for us... you were so adamant it was all about the money, and you didn't give a damn."

"Yeah, well..." His hand found the back of his head.

"But that was before you met her. I realised afterward that you only _really_ started caring when you realised what she was willing to do for it. It shamed you." Tifa took his hand firmly, offering a reassuring smile. "I wish I could see her again, just to say thank you for bringing back the Cloud I used to know."

"I'm sorry I was such an asshole. I guess I just... lost it. I forgot who I really was, but it took her death to... to make me remember. Then... it felt like it was too late."

"It's not too late. Look where we are, Cloud!" She gestured to the window, where the void yawned, swallowing them whole. "If this works... then she didn't die in vain. And then all we have left to do is clean up ShinRa's mess- Just like the good old days!"

Cloud laughed, probably for the first time in a long while. "Oh, you should go and speak to Vincent. I think he found the window in the room with the bomb in."

"Is he alright?"

"Why shouldn't he be? He's got you."

"Oh shut up." She mumbled, readying herself for a push off back toward the door.

"Seriously though... ah... I'm happy for you. He's a great man. And I couldn't have hoped for anyone better to take care of you, when this is all over."

Tifa grinned, punching Cloud's shoulder, though gravity- or rather the lack of- and the padded suits were working against her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When the alarms sounded, meteor had long been in sight of the windows- a flaming rock that dwarfed the moon, orbiting a little to the left, thought that at least was thankfully out of harm's way.

"This is it, then." Vincent told her, anticipation stiffening his limbs. "All we have to do is get to the escape pods."

"Piece of cake." She smiled, though it felt rather strained. Giving up, she bent her knees and shoved off the windowed wall in the so called bomb room, reaching out to grab the door frame to pull her body around and out into the narrow corridor. The pipes hissed around them, the revolving orange alarm lights casting strange shadows of those before her, pulling themselves towards the pod launch.

At the next junction she literally bumped into Shera, who was rather pleased to see a friendly face at least. With Tifa and Vincent in tow, she led them toward the furthermost pod, and Tifa was pleased to see she would be sharing the pod with Cloud also. One less person to worry about.

"We just have to wait for Cid," Shera told them, instructing them to fit their helmets before buckling themselves into their seats. Seated across from Shera, Tifa noted that the scientist has left the seat beside her empty for Cid. Tifa suppressed a tender smile. That damn pilot didn't know what he had.

In the metal pod, the shrill wailing of the alarms was distinctly muted, though sat in silence, they seemed to become amplified in her head. How long was it going to be until launch?

"_This is the captain speaking. Initiatin' auto pilot flight sequence. Engineer pods ok for launch."_ Cid's voice boomed over the speakers, his sentence eventually punctuated by a deafening hiss, followed by a metallic _thunk_, as the first few pods were fired into space towards Earth.

"Once he's ensured that nothing can go wrong mechanically he'll get into the pod," Shera was garbling away, though Tifa suspected it was more to herself than anyone else.

"_Explosive's are hot and ready to go captain._"

"_All systems are ready- all remaining escape pods, please prepare for launch."_

"This is it now," Shera muttered, wringing her gloved hands.

The minutes seemed to drag as Cid was making his way eventually toward them, and Tifa sighed with relief, steaming the inside of her helmet at the sight of the rugged-faced pilot, who was grinning stupidly.

"Alrigh, don't piss yer pants, I'm here now!" He chuckled as he clicked his helmet into place, punching the airlock button which sent the door hissing shut. He strapped himself into his seat with the ease and proficiency to suggest that he'd done it many times before. "This is the captain speaking- computer, launch the remaining escape pods."

"Computer?" Tifa mused to herself. Since when had ShinRa had AI? It had to be voice recognition software- she wasn't aware that anybody had even come close to such advanced fields of robotics. Jesus, she was becoming such a nerd...

That awful, crushing pressure took her again, a weird swooping sensation in her stomach making her feel giddy as the pod detached from the main ship and was catapulted toward Earth. In the tiny window she caught one last glimpse of the hunk of green metal that had taken her on the most amazing journey- one which she was likely to never forget.

The ride was getting considerably bumpier, she noted, as the sound of air rushing past them at so many hundreds of miles per hour reached deafening levels. She felt thankful for the suit though- it certainly was getting hot inside the pod. She could feel sweat starting to bead upon her forehead, and trickle down the nape of her neck. She did her best to ignore the sound of Cid whooping- at least someone was enjoying himself.

When she thought she couldn't hate the sensation anymore, then came the sudden jerk, as the escape pod's parachute release kicked in, slowing their plummet toward ground in order that they wouldn't become a small meteor of their own, and disintegrate on contact.

They were steadily slowing, the sound around them not so dehabilitating anymore- it made her sick to focus on the rapidly shifting view above out of the window, so she fixed her gaze on the altitude meter. Their speed was still in the hundreds, though it was steadily decreasing as they went. She only hoped they didn't run out of space to fall through...

"Brace for impact!" Cid yelled, his face screwed up, his glee still apparent.

Tifa tried her best not to grit her teeth lest they be knocked out of place, though it was incredibly difficult to resist doing so... If only there was a countdown so at least she'd know...

She couldn't help but scream as the metal ball that they had tumbled through space in hit something with a bang, though she noted that nothing felt broken. The pod was not still, though. It seemed to be... bobbing up and down like a buoy on-

"Water. We had a water landing." Cid announced, rapidly unbuckling himself and vaulting out of his seat, sending the capsule into a lurch which almost made her vomit. Deciding it would be better to use her helmet as a sick bucket when it was off her head, she fumbling to release it, puffing out a breath of relief to feel cooler air upon her face. Cid had opened the tiny hatch to stick out his head, allowing in a bracing sea breeze. She could almost taste the salt.

"Looks like we landed near Kalm, near a couple of other pods." Cid announced to his otherwise silent capsule mates, ignoring them as he proceeded to punch some buttons at the controls console. "They'll not be long in picking us up."

"We've got to wait here?" A rather green-faced Cloud asked, his voice wavering. "Excuse me, while I hurl."

Tifa tried to ignore the sounds of Cloud retching, possibly decorating the outside of the capsule with the sparse contents of his stomach. It seemed damn typical that the one time you wanted ShinRa to find you that they would seemingly take a lifetime.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He was wearing the Turk's uniform, or at least, something incredibly similar. At the sight of him, she took in a sharp breath. The night was definitely going to drag if she had to spend its entirety away from him. Perhaps she could convince him to—

"Ah, there you are," He'd noticed her, ruby eyes sparkling in recognition and in amazement as he took in her attire. "You look wonderful, Tifa."

"I scrub up well," She gave a half shrug, self-consciously running a hand over the ruby silk dress. "It's not like I ever owned anything like this in my life."

"Well, I'd happily buy you as many as you liked." His gaze swept down her body, skating over her curves, before returning to her face.

"I was thinking..." She began, closing the polite space between them with a slow step, threading her fingers behind his black standard issue tie, brushing the skin of his chest. "Maybe we should escape?"

He laughed through his nose, though she noted he clenched his fists loosely. "Maybe later. I think we are expected to linger around here for a little while, at least."

She pouted, threading her arm through his and turning to survey the room. The evening event had been organised to celebrate the success of the space mission, and the harmonious collaboration between ShinRa and Avalanche. Rufus's good will gesture, or something of the sorts. She didn't really care. She thought that the whole thing was being a bit presumptuous, actually; the meteor was visibly smaller, some fragments having been blown off into space by the impact of the nuclear bomb, though the analysis had not yet been completed by the Cosmo University. They would have to wait another few days to see if their efforts had paid off.

A part of her doubted it. But she'd long gotten used to the idea of the end of things. It wasn't so difficult to accept anymore.

They weaved through the crowds of unfamiliar officials and ShinRa employees until they located the rest of their group, looking rather uncomfortable in their suits—to Vincent, it seemed like a second skin. She laughed at Barrett secretly behind her hand—he always looked like a bear in uniform.

"I know what yer laughin' at, Lockheart." He growled, glowering at her from across the banquet table.

The evening was kicked off by a few speeches, each as equally boring as the last, and Cid made a show of being bored out of his wits. Pretty rich, seeing as he was seated at the table of honour for being the damn pilot.

Tifa dangled the heel of her shoe from her toes, resting her chin in her palm and gazing off above the speaker's head. She could hear the fabric of Vincent's suit rubbing as he shifted his position periodically. She could tell he was as preoccupied as she felt, and it amused her to occasionally uncross and cross her legs, only so that it concentrated his attention on her body movements. Not that he had been trying to block her out.

Finally able to move around again, Tifa took it upon herself to drink a few glasses of champagne, being paraded around on trays above waiter's heads. It was on one of her boredom-induced trysts that she overheard a conversation between Heidegger, the fat man in the awful green-felt suit and Scarlet. They seemed to be quite the duo.

"I'm going to get the president to authorise the firing of the sister ray," She told the bearded man, making a show of glancing at her nails and looking bored. Tifa had her back turned, though her head was angled in such a way to hear every word.

"Perhaps not tonight, he is not in the best of moods." Heidegger suggested, wringing his fat hands together.

"I'll win him over—I always do."

"Don't be silly, Scarlet. You know his affections are elsewhere." Scarlet's response was to give a muffled cry of fury.

"I don't care whether or not he likes the little avalanche whore—I just need him to agree to fire it. Besides, imagine what taking care of Sephiroth could do for ShinRa's image."

Having heard enough, Tifa stalked away to find Vincent. She had a little spy work for him.

. . . . . . . . .

"You want to what?" He frowned, ruby eyes scanning the room's periphery.

"I want to search Scarlet's office." She repeated firmly, tugging at his elbow.

Allowing himself to be lead, he followed her out of the president's office and down the sweeping staircase. The reception desks stood empty at this hour, and their passage was not impeded; everyone seemed to be at the party.

"Can I ask why?" He sighed, following her out into the maze of corridors leading to the senior staff offices.

"A number of reasons, I'll tell you when we find it." Thinking it best to stay silent for a moment, he stayed close to her side, stopping finally at a large white door emblazoned with Scarlet's name on a gold plaque. Tifa wasn't surprised to find the door locked, though she had come prepared. Vincent raised an eyebrow as she slid a hand down the front of her dress, pulling out a senior staff key card—an item Reeve had presented her with a few hours earlier.

"What else have you got it there?" He chuckled, as she slid the key card into the allocated slot. She gave him a look as if to say, 'if you want to know, you'll have to go there yourself'.

The little light flipped from red to green, allowing them to slip inside the darkened room. Upon entering, Tifa wedged a chair under the door, and slid the blinds closed with a snap. "Are you going to tell me why we are here, now?"

She smiled knowingly, immediately beginning to rummage in Scarlet's desk drawers. "I don't trust her one bit. I overheard her talking, and I think she might be up to something. Reeve's been itching to get in here for years apparently- only he never got the chance." She tossed a pile of paperwork onto the table and began leafing through it.

"That's reason number one, right?" Vincent began riffling through a filling cabinet, glancing over his shoulder at his companion.

"The other reason is—ahah!—I don't like her, and I wanted to have the satisfaction of knowing I'd broken into her office." He laughed again, selected a few documents that might be of interest to Tifa's cause. "And there is another reason..."

At her elongated pause, he turned to face her, his interest piqued. In the low light filtering in through the closed blinds, he could only distinguish her outline. She had seated herself on the edge of the desk in the room's centre, her knees raised, legs crossed delicately at the ankle. The hem of her dress had ridden up, giving a rather delectable view of her thighs. Her weight resting on one palm, she beckoned to him.

"You're not serious..." Dropping the files in his hand to cross over to where she waited for him, he nestled himself between her thighs, murmuring his words against her hair.

"I've not had you alone since before the launch," She whispered, her lips at his ear, burying the fingers of one hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. "—and, I've never seen you in a suit before..."

"That's unfortunate." His fingers inched their way along the inside of her thigh, her hands already busy trying to peel off his jacket. "For me, at least." He murmured into her neck.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Half an hour was all the time they could safely spare, so it was a rather rushed, yet still exhilarating experience. Smoothing down her dress, she immersed herself in the crowd once more, thankful to have entered unnoticed. To remain so in a dress that revealed as much skin as hers did was a little too much to ask however- she soon found herself trying to avoid several Turks whom she'd never encountered before, not to mention a few sweaty beaurocrats.

Vincent's re-entry had been slightly more successful it seemed- he'd reached the bar and was already enjoying a drink. He was unaware as to Tifa's whereabouts, though he was satisfied enough not to go looking for her just yet. Their encounter had left him distinctly ruffled, though thankfully nobody in the room knew him well enough to notice his face, let alone what state of dishabille he was in.

Until Reno spotted him. "Ah! Ex-Turk!" The redhead sidled over, resting one elbow on the surface of the bar, considering the dark-haired man with a lopsided smile.

"I have a name. You would do well to remember it." Vincent responded rather sourly, taking another sip of whiskey.

"Yeah, yeah, sure whatever. Listen," The navy-suited Turk cast a wary glance about their immediate locality before continuing. "Have you seen Tifa anywhere?"

"Why?" His back immediately stiffened, and he could've kicked himself for sounding so ill at ease. The redhead might have been stupid, but he was bound to notice some things. He found himself wondering if his tie was straight, or if he'd managed to fasten that tiny, fiddly button at his collar. The way Reno's mouth turned up at the corners upon studying him told him he most likely had not.

"Cool it, I was just wondering. I wanted to buy her a drink, to say sorry for... well being an ass. We're allies now, after all." He gestured to the banners which proclaimed such, bedecking the walls about the president's office.

"Well I haven't seen her in a while." He told him bluntly, draining his glass and setting it down abruptly on the counter. One of the men in suits nearby turned out to be Barrett, who shifted closer on recognising Vincent.

"When d'you think we can get the hell outta here. Makes my fuckin' skin crawl."

"Ah, if it isn't the founding meat bag himself! How are ya, Wallace? Care for a drink? Doubt it'd penetrate your thick head but hey-"

"Why you stupid ginger cun-"

"Barrett!" Tifa elbowed her way towards them through the hoards surrounding the bar, scowling over the top of Reno's head. "Don't let anything he says get to you. Reno, where's the president?"

"Oh, you're asking favours now?" He leant back lazily against the bar, examining his nails nonchalantly. "Well, and here I was going to buy you a drink. Rude tells me that it won't work in getting into your pants, but hey, it's worth a try." Vincent clenched his jaw. "Say, looks like someone's already tried." The redhead took in Tifa's attractively ruffled hair, the natural flush to her cheeks, and the slightly wrinkled fabric of her dress. All tell tale signs of her- _their_- recent activity.

"Fuck you Turk." She laughed dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Hey Rude!" Reno beckoned his partner over, a jubilant grin upon his pale face. The bald man still wore his sunglasses, despite the fact that it was dark outside, and he was indoors, his expression as impassive as ever. "Looks like my chances have greatly improved- the Ex-Turk's gotten lucky!"

"Huh?" Barrett scowled, turning to look Vincent in the face, who had the grace to flush, glancing down at his shoes, trying his best not to smile. "You think this is fuckin' _funny_, Turk?"

"I'm not a Turk, anymore." Vincent said coldly, his shoulders tensing. He pointedly ignored Reno's insistent tittering.

"Tifa, what the fuck is this all abou'?"

"You're kidding, right?" Tifa's face was turning red too, though from embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell. "Barrett, do yourself a favour, and mind your own business. I'm twenty years old, and more importantly, I'm not your daughter."

"So the slum flower is screwing the ex-Turk..." Reno was inconsolable, slapping his partner on the back as he laughed heartily.

"I'm a slum flower alright... But I've got fucking thorns." Then she punched him in the face.

"Jesusss!" Reno was sent reeling backwards into a crowd of suits. By now they had attracted rather a lot of attention. But Tifa didn't care. She bore down on him, lifting him unceremoniously to his feet by his collar. To her satisfaction, a few buttons popped off, and she could hear the tear of fabric.

"You make me sick, Turk," She spat the last word with venom. "I might be doing ShinRa a favour, but I am not doing it out of love for them. Because of them, I lost _everything_. ShinRa made me the Slum flower you think I am."

"Tifa, just let him go." Cloud was at her side, talking gently into her ear. "He's not worth your time. None of these assholes are. Let's go back to the ship, and celebrate our way."

She looked to her childhood friend, finding herself returning the gentle smile he wore. Avalanche was her family, no matter how dysfunctional it may be. She needed them, nobody else. Fuck ShinRa.

"Enjoy your evening. And your intact face." She told Reno sweetly, before letting him go. He brushed himself down, still smirking all the while. There were some things, or rather, some people you just couldn't change.

They walked out together, all laughing with the exception of Barrett. She'd have to deal with him later.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

To be continued... hopefully.


	16. Making Amends

I've had the start of this chapter written for a while, but I was sort of lost for material of finish it. It may be a little short but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

For those of you who haven't seen it, please check out my all new Reeve/Tifa fic. I'd appreciate it, and it might give you something else to read while waiting for another update! :-/

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16. Making Amends

The Highwind's engines burst into life once more, humming pleasantly as Cid steered them out of their docking point. All of Avalanche were below deck, save for Tifa and Barrett. He had asked to speak with her, though at the moment he said nothing at all, instead choosing to stand by the rails and stare out over Midgar. She couldn't help but notice that the meteor shone brightest of all in the skies above the city, and its looming presence was of little reassurance to her that their little space stint had done any good at all. The city lights were an ugly smear of orange and yellow across the dark landscape, though in a way it was almost beautiful; pinpricks of colour piercing the darkness. It was a damn sight improvement on how it looked in the daylight; all greys and black, not to mention the smog. She wondered where sector 7 was, and if anyone had even bothered to start clearing it since the plate had desecrated it. Her fingers twitched; another impulsive urge to punch Reno for all the trouble he had caused.

"You and... him. When?" He said at last, turning around slowly. He had at some point ripped off his tie and shed his suit jacket, though it did little to dispel his obvious discomfort with the garments he still wore.

"I... I don't know what to say to you Barrett. It's been long enough that perhaps you should have noticed earlier."

"But why?"

"I don't know what you want me to tell you. Does there have to be a reason? And why does it matter so much to you, anyway?" Her hands found their way to her hips, though she resisted tapping her foot impatiently.

"I just... I never thought you, uh, stopped carin' for Cloud." On the plus side, he didn't seem angry anymore, though now, he radiated confusion and discomposure.

"But I thought you never liked him much anyway," A small smile crept to his lips at that. "Cloud and I have solved our issues. We are friends, and that's all that matters. Whatever I may or may not feel is my own business, now."

"I jus'... ever since you came t'me in the slums years ago I kinda seen you as a daughter. I already adopted one, and I guess I thought it'd be cool to have two..."

"I get that, and I appreciate it." She reached out and gave his immense shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But you can't tell me what to do, and who to love. Who knows if we'll even survive the year... what does it matter?"

"It matters because…" He shook his head again, running a rough hand over his stubbled chin. "If it don't, may as well die now. I gotta still believe this could work, Tifa… I gotta think that life can be… _normal_ again."

Her smile was gentle and sad. Turning, she slipped her arm through his, watching the dark shape of Midgar slip out of focus in the distance. "I wish I could think like that… But I just keep thinking about all of the things I've always wanted to do and… it scares me all over again."

"What things?"

Tifa gave a sheepish grin, leaning her face toward the large man's shoulder, to hide her bashfulness. "Most of the things a girl wants; to get married and have a big white dress, to have children… But you know I'm not like most girls. I always wanted to set up my own martial arts school in the city. I always wanted to go to university. And I always wanted to go travelling."

"You _can_ do all those things!" Barrett protested, giving her shoulder an almost crippling squeeze. "And so will Marlene, someday."

"I miss that kid." She admitted, suddenly wishing she were back in the slums, if not to enjoy one of the evenings they used to have to themselves, when Barrett and the others were out 'working'. "I swear, she's far too old for a four year-old at times!"

"Tell me about it!" They shared a laugh, recalling all the times they had been told-off by the youngster, her tiny arms crossed defiantly across the front of her pink dress, which was more often than not dirtied.

"She's going to break hearts one day, and you are just going to have to accept that."

"What about you, though? You gonna see the world, not to mention meet many other… men. Is Vincent _the_ one or somethin?"

She shook her head, giggling despite herself. "I honestly don't know. All I do know is that I care about him, and he also feels the same for me. I couldn't really ask for anything more."

"Well, uh, I mean this in the nicest way possible- I'm happy for ya, but if he hurts you, I'll kill him."

"Point taken."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vincent knew better than to ask if she was alright; he knew what the answer would be if he did, so instead, he chose silence. Lowering himself to sit with her up on the Highwind's deck, legs dangling through the railings, he struggled to think of what to say. He didn't quite know how the news had made he himself feel, let alone anyone else.

"Well…" She began, her mouth suddenly dry. "I kinda saw this coming." He didn't respond, choosing only to take her hand in his. "At least… we can-"

He was going to say, _don't cry, everything is alright._ But those words were as redundant as they were empty, so instead he slipped an arm about her shoulders. "We did everything we could."

"I know that. It's just…." She stared out over the skies, the half of the stratosphere that lacked meteor he noted, tinted rose and amber as the sun set over the mountains. They were somewhere north of Kalm, docked. "What about all the children who will never know their future? All of the history that will be lost, forgotten?"

The news had been global; there was no need to go to Cosmo to find out. The nuclear bomb had blown off a chunk of the meteor, though still, it's trajectory had not been altered. It was hovering over them, still, motionless, and waiting.

"I… I don't know Tifa." He sighed. "I honestly don't know. All I do know is… I need to finish things, before… before we head into the North Crater. I want Sephiroth's death to be the last I am responsible for."

"Hojo?" She whispered in question, burying her face into his neck.

"Yes." His knuckles whitened as he tightened his fist. "He is in Midgar, I believe. Yuffie has been… helping me to track him down. He is working with Scarlet on the new cannon."

"Then I'll go, too." She decided. "As soon as the stupid, stuck-up cow has fired that cannon, I am going to throw her off it."

For the first time in a long while, he laughed. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Then we can go and face Sephiroth together," Her fingers interlaced with his tightened. "…And we can wait out the end."

"I've been thinking about this, actually, and I wanted to talk to you about… about what we are going to do."

"You mean, if we succeed in the crater," Her laugh with devoid of humour. "If we can even get in there at all."

"Yes. I meant that if we are faced with Meteor… I thought perhaps we could return to Mideel."

"Didn't it get destroyed by Weapon?" Her eyes were closed, her forehead resting on the handrail before her.

"Well… Or at least somewhere we have good memories together, to spend the time we have left."

"You don't mean kill ourselves do you?" She half-joked, straightening to stare at him.

He shook his head firmly. "No- I mean after the final battle… we could go somewhere, just you and I; be together. Then we cast Sleep and… we don't have to wait for the end. We simply…"

"Stop existing together?"

"Exactly."

"I'll give it some thought," Tifa got to her feet, giving the horizon one last longing gaze before she turned to face the other half of the sky. It was darker, though marred by the angry smear of Meteor. "I'll need to ask Cid to plot a course for Midgar soon."

"Tifa?" she turned in the doorway, her shoulders slumped. "I… I'll be inside soon." He swallowed the lump in his throat as her form vanished beneath deck.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Do you remember busting out of Don Corneo's joint?" Cloud was laughing, seated cross-legged in one of the empty rooms in the bowels of the Highwind. They had crossed paths in the night, and upon confessing their insomnia, they decided to wait it out together.

"Yeah. Looking back, I can't believe I didn't recognise you right away!" She wiped at a stray tear, chuckling even though her sides hurt. "And that dress was… ridiculous!"

"Hey, I picked it myself you know!"

"That's what worries me!" The bubble of hysteria in her chest faded, leaving her somewhat hollow again. "_You_ rescuing _me…_ _Must_ be old times."

"Ha. Yeah," He rubbed at the back of his neck, before reclining on the wooden floor, staring up at the steel-clad ceiling. After a moment, she joined him, though she lay on her side, watching the play of moonlight on his skin. "I can't believe we only left Midgar under a year ago," He admitted, foot jiggling.

"It feels longer," She agreed, suddenly wishing she'd brought a blanket. "And yet so much has changed."

"It certainly has. All the friends we've made, and the places we've been. Back in Nibel, we wouldn't have even dreamed of a life like this…"

"No, you're right. It's strange- I never thought I'd end up leaving that town; Funny what fate throws at you."

"Fate…" He savoured the word, perhaps with distaste. "Such a cruel thing. It took away so many lives, and ruined those it left behind."

"The way I see it, killing Sephiroth won't make any different and yet… it's everything. If I at least get to punch that monster once before I die, my life would not have been a complete."

"Don't talk about your death that way… as though you're so worthless as to be discarded." His haunting mako-blue eyes focused on her face, and she suddenly wondered why her heart had given up on somersaults until now. Now wasn't the time to add complications….

"I didn't mean to… remind you." She breathed, not daring to move. She was in arm's reach; a respectful distance.

"Of what?" The gentle frown that creased his nose, that made the blue of his eyes burn through the dark, reminded her so much of the moody sixteen-year old Cloud.

"Of Aeris," She whispered softly, almost wanting to hold her breath. "I know it must be so hard to… go on without her."

"It's hard because… Because I could have saved her… I should have gotten there first…." His leather gloves creaked as he made fists with his hands, his jaw set firmly.

"Cloud… we were all to blame. We should have been stronger… We should have protected the Materia better. We should have protected Aeris better. But you know her- she was stubborn. She wanted to go to the Forgotten City… she needed to. No-one could have deterred her. You know that." She propped herself up on her elbow to peer down into his face. He gazed back, fractured and conflicted.

"Did I ever tell you I joined SOLDIER to impress you?"

Why was he telling this now? She frowned. "I know that. But why are you-"

"You've always been there. I… I should have been there for you, too. But I… The experiments Hojo did… Zack's memories were imprinted into me. Aeris was his girlfriend, not mine, and yet… I had feelings for her. Were they… do you think they are mine, or Zack's?"

"Cloud, I… I don't know."

"What if I'd never been in that tank? What if…" He trembled, evidently traumatised by the memories, turning on his side and tucking his legs up closer to his chest. "What if things between us could have been different?" She found herself wondering how they had gotten so close, only when a gloved hand closed the short distance between then to touch her cheek. A shudder travelled down her spine at the contact of leather on her skin.

"I don't know what to say, Cloud." She breathed, aware that their faces were barely inches apart, and that never once had he looked at her that way. Why? Why now?

"You don't have to say anything."

"I…" Staring back aghast into his face, she didn't see cerulean eyes, but ruby ones. She didn't feel leather on her skin, but cool fingertips, bare and loving. "Cloud, I'm sorry." She swept his hand aside gently, a lump forming in her throat. "But I do have to say something… Cloud, I… Why are you doing this now? You know that Vincent is… he has my heart now. There's no way I can do this to him. And I can't do it to myself, either." She got to her feet slowly, turning to look back at her childhood friend, a well of confusion and hurt still lodged firmly in her chest. "Whatever we were… whatever we had… it is no more."

Vincent was woken by cool hands on his face, and tear-soaked lips against his. "Tifa? Are you alright?" He made to move but she placed a hand on his chest, stilling him. She removed her clothes before slipping between the sheets with him, seeking his warmth.

"Just hold me." She whispered into his chest, and so he did, soothing her by teasing his fingers through her long dark locks of hair. Her sobs soon subsided, her breathing calmed by the warmth and proximity of Vincent's body to hers. She nuzzled a little closer into his side, emitting a deep, heavy sigh. "I love you, Vincent."

"I love you, too." He replied, smiling softly to himself. The first time he'd ever been told that, and yet the moment felt so bitter-sweet. "More than you know."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The following morning left Vincent wondering what had upset Tifa so deeply. At first, he had simply taken that perhaps she had somehow gotten worked up about the whole end-of-the-world thing, who wouldn't after all? Though after noticing how she would look at him, her cheeks dashed with an embarrassed flush, he began to think otherwise.

They were all gathered on the bridge, Tifa in her usual place at the front, her arms folded across her chest, face turned resolutely to face the view beyond the window. He noted that Cloud was trying his best to talk to her, but she refused to face him. Upon noting Vincent's arrival however, he seemed to give up on the endeavour. "Is something wrong?" He asked, glancing back over his shoulder at Cloud, who was busying himself talking with Cid at the helm.

"I… can we talk later?" She sounded angry, though her eyes were filled with sadness. Taking the hint, he remained in silence. "I'm sorry- I'm not angry with you." Her fingers slid between his. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I'm guessing Cloud said something?" He muttered, aware of Cloud's gaze wandering toward them.

"I… He just… last night we were talking and…" She wiped at her eyes furiously. "He tried to…"

Vincent didn't like how this sounded. "Tifa? Do you want me to talk to him?" He couldn't help but feel slightly protective of her. He recalled how Cloud had regarded him when he had first joined the group; with contempt, suspicion, and he clearly didn't trust him, especially around Tifa.

"No, no." She shook her head firmly. "Well I'm not really sure what he was hoping to achieve. It was as if he… had hoped that he could change things."

Vincent chewed on his bottom lip. "Change them?"

"Don't pull that face, Vincent." Her frown vanished as she reached up to touch his cheek. "I know what you're thinking in that messed up mind of yours, and I haven't changed my mind about you; about us. I love you, remember?" He felt his face grow how as, in front of everyone, she shifted closer to press up against him, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"How could I forget?" He murmured back, foreheads almost touching as he leant close. Then, partly because she knew Cloud was watching, and mainly because she wanted to, she brought her lips to his, pressing her body closer.

Cid was making vomiting noises behind them, her lips stretching into a smile against Vincent's mouth. "We'd better go and get ready," She said, pulling away to gaze into his face. "We have people to assassinate."

"Is that an excuse to get me somewhere alone?" He raised a brow, a glimmer in his eye.

"If you want it to be."

"Well, everyone is expecting us to, so we may as well not let them down." She was laughing as they left the bridge together, blissfully unaware of the amused side-glances their teammates were giving them.

The room Tifa shoved Vincent into was one she hadn't come across before- dank, gloomy, and pretty much the same as all the others; though it would serve. She found a surface to force him onto, undoing her shirt and stepping out of her shorts before kneeling astride him, lowering her wanting mouth to his.

Being with Tifa made him feel ten years younger than he actually was; surely it wasn't normal for a man his age to be getting so much sex. He couldn't help but laugh at that thought, earning him a quizzical look from Tifa. All he knew was, it felt good to be carefree, even if it was going to be short-lived. His kisses turned desperate, hands clutching her thighs, helping her body to grind against him, aggravating the focus of their pleasure. The metal wall behind him was cold against his back, but her body was so warm…

He climaxed quickly, and within moments, Tifa reached hers, the small stuffy room filled with the sound of them trying to catch their breath. She didn't move though, her face buried into his neck, though her knees were beginning to hurt from kneeling upon whatever it Vincent was sat on.

"Cloud tried to apologise I think…" She told him after a moment, loosely clutching his shirt in her fingers. "For hurting me. But… I'm not really sure what he hoped to do… I think he was going to kiss me."

"He's probably trying to adjust. It's difficult, knowing the world you know with everything you love on it isn't going to last."

Tifa said nothing for a moment, just inhaling Vincent's scent, and committing it to memory. "I felt guilty."

"You did nothing wrong." He replied immediately, his cheek resting on her hair.

"I know. But it made me think about… say I'd never met you… he would've just _used_ me. Then I got angry with him. He just thinks he can do whatever he wants, without there being consequences; he must still think that I care for him in _that_ way."

"I think you made your point, though," He smiled against her hair, his fingers lost in her soft chocolate strands. "Let's just get on with the mission. We can yell at Cloud later."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In the makeshift armoury, Vincent had just shoved a magazine into place in his contingency handgun, and was squinting down the barrel when Cloud entered. He sighed internally- what a time to pick, when nobody else was around. Saying nothing, he holstered the weapon at his hip, before turning his back to the room, routing around in his specified locker for the black combat gear that Tifa had apparently hung up there after the last time he'd worn it.

"So you're after Hojo, huh?" Cloud asked from across the room. Still shirtless, Vincent inhaled deeply before turning, to face his addresser.

"I don't plan on making another attempt after this, so yes." He hadn't intended his tone so sound so irked, but yet it escaped his lips as such.

Cloud's azure gaze pierced his for a moment. "Tifa has told you." Guilt, thick and heavy, a net dragging him down.

For an instant, Vincent felt uncertain. Should he lie? "It's nothing to do with me." He said slowly, lowering his eyes. "I have no quarrel with you, Cloud."

"She… she's happy with you. I didn't see it until last night." Cloud sighed, seating himself upon one of the benches, the wood groaning under his weight. "I just… I don't know what I was doing."

"It's fine, Cloud." He hoped the blonde could interpret the finality it his voice- his patience would only last so long. For some reason, he felt his fingers twitching. "I'd rather not discuss this any further, and I imagine that you wouldn't either. Let's just concentrate on the task at hand, then we can go and get rid of Sephiroth for good." He didn't even try to hide the harshness biting in his tone, abruptly tugging the since-discovered combat gear from its hiding place.

"I… ok."

Vincent tugged on the close-fitted black shirt before meeting Cloud's cerulean gaze one more. His lips quirked at the corner. "If you have issue with the scientist too… We should take him out together."

Cloud smiled softly in return, getting to his feet again ."Let's do, it then."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I'm so sorry it's been so long- it's getting harder to write now I'm getting nearer to the end. Please bear with me! And as always, reviews are immensely helpful.


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